The Girl With No Name
by mythweaver1
Summary: FFIV Prequel. Trapped in Babil with a Doctor who has descended into madness, a girl with no recollection of how she arrived, must figure out how to survive. Lugae and OC. Will link up with post-game fic.
1. Chapter 1

About the summary…this is based off of an OC. I promise that it will hook up with the plot of the game and the rest of the characters later on. There's already been a crossover reference to this fic in The Summoned Land, and it will return again in other fics as well…

This is meant to take place three years before the game actually begins, and ends somewhere within the plot of The Summoned Land, so somewhere within the time where Rydia is still in the Feymarch and Cecil and company are searching for a way to reach the Underworld. That's the timeline for this fic, at least for this character. Afterwards, this character will not reappear until I get into post-game-fics.

There are some recognizable characters that you'll get to…and meet more of eventually, but first and foremost--who on earth is this mysterious girl?

(WARNING: This is short!)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and places that appear in this story. They belong to Square Enix. The OC on the other hand is MINE.

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Memories Scattered Like Rain on the Wings of a Storm

Her body was sore, her nerves were frayed, and all around her a world of black shifted and twisted her senses. It was like floating in ether, some fluid substance with no top and no bottom. Where was she?

Her mind tried to latch on to elusive thoughts, any memory she could recall--who she was, where she was from. She blinked her eyes rapidly, furiously searching for a light of some kind, anything that would orient her and convince her that this was real. She wondered if she kept staring long enough if she might wake up from all this and find herself home again. But where was home, and what if this wasn't a dream? Would her sight return? Had she even lost it?

Panic twisted her gut and her heart fluttered spasmodically in her chest.

She closed her eyes again, the blackness behind her eyelids no different from the world enveloping her body. She calmed herself, steadied her breathing, and in that instant felt her feet brush against something solid. Gravity returned soon afterward and her body sagged to rest on something hard but sturdy. Was this really real? She felt down gingerly with a hand, fearing this too might be an illusion that would break at her touch. She'd been drifting in emptiness for so long, tangibility was a foreign concept to her, but no—this felt real enough. Unwilling to open her eyes again and be disappointed by the sight of nothing, she explored her surroundings with her hands, allowing them to see for her.

The ground was smooth, polished even, and there were tiny cracks evenly spaced, perfectly straight. Warmth seemed to emanate from some portions of the floor while others remained stone cold.

Falling.

Her mind jolted at the memory. This wasn't right. She'd been falling, that had been her last thought before coming here. Where and for what reason still escaped her, but common sense told her she should be dead.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes, slowly, fearfully.

A light teased her senses and she rubbed her eyes vigorously, involuntary tears forming when she was unable to focus.

She opened her eyes wider, adjusting to this change, and when her vision finally sharpened, she was so surprised, she barely remembered her fear of blindness only an instant before.

The lights were tiny and faint, but they were there. They were everywhere, in fact. There were large patches of darkness above and surrounding her, but the floor was illuminated and she wondered why she'd never thought to look down while she was falling. What was this place, to have a floor that shone like a maze of fireflies trapped in glass?

Was this an afterlife?

She decided further exploration was necessary, and stood up to investigate where this strange path would lead her. The moment she flexed her leg, however, a searing pain shot through her right thigh. She yelped in pain, clutching her wounded leg. What kind of afterlife would allow a person to feel pain?

Utilizing more caution, she eased herself upright while giving more consideration to her injury. She'd been wounded before the fall. She remembered that now too. But for what reason?

She stepped forward and hobbled along the glowing path until it narrowed. She groped with her hands to see if anything bordered the path, walls or anything, and her fingers felt a surface similar to that of the floor. Was this a corridor of some sort? She went to lean on the invisible wall for support, but the moment her hand fully rested on the surface, a stream of light surged through the wall and spread like a spider web along the entire length of the passage. It was so bright it blinded her and she shielded her eyes.

A corridor, long and narrow, was revealed to her. Where she had arrived was a wide platform hanging into the darkness, but this hallway led to an unknown end that disappeared into the sea of curiously bright lights. She limped into it, hoping that maybe she could find an exit and return to wherever she was meant to be. Hoping she could escape this strangeness.

It wasn't long before she began to suspect she wasn't alone. Footsteps. Hurried footsteps were coming for her. The farther in she went the louder the footsteps became, but she couldn't decide from which direction they were approaching. There was an echo that was playing tricks with her ears. She looked behind her—no one. How could there be? She stopped moving, but the other footsteps never flagged, coming from no particular direction, and every direction at once, bouncing their sound off of the walls. Her nerves caught up to her again. Who could be in a place like this besides her? Instinctively her hand went to her waist, grasping for something that her conscious mind couldn't remember. To her surprise something was indeed affixed to her belt. There was a short slender blade buckled there in its sheath. She drew it cautiously, staring at it in wonder. She knew how to handle weapons? The sound of the footsteps grew louder still, and her body sprang into action, her legs spaced for balance, her knees slightly bent for quick movement. Her right leg screamed its protest, but she ignored it. She wasn't going to allow herself to be taken without a fight and left to float in darkness all over again.

In the strange light of the corridor she waited.

A door slid open a few arm lengths away, and her breath caught in her throat. A figure began to emerge, but she hesitated, wondering if they would turn out to be friend or foe.

It was a man who stepped through the portal, a man with scraggly white hair and a stooped back who was scratching his head in confusion. He didn't see her at first, as he was looking in the wrong direction, but when he did, his expression was that of horror and he jumped. His eyes were dark and beady, amplified by a pair of unusual glass objects resting awkwardly on the bridge of his nose with strange wires hooked behind his ears. At the moment his eyes were especially wide, staring at her.

"You! You're the cause of the disturbance!" he croaked out. It didn't seem his voice was familiar to being used in such excited tones.

"Who are you?" she demanded instead, gripping her blade more tightly. "Where is this place and how did I get here?"

"Who I am is none of your concern," he sniveled. "You re-routed energy from the tower's primary power source and activated its teleportation sub-routine."

She stared at him. "I did what?"

"When something gets near enough to the tower's support beams at this altitude, the tower is automatically programmed to cast a teleportation spell on the object and bring it slowly to rest somewhere on the structure without damaging it. I was working on something when you went and stole my power! Now my experiment is ruined!"

All she could do was stare at him in return, uncomprehending. "I'm sorry?"

"You should be! Several months' worth of work all ruined!" he shouted.

She lowered her weapon and released the tension in her muscles. "Can you tell me how I can leave here?"

"Leave here? Girl, do you not know where you are?"

"No!" she shouted. "Otherwise I wouldn't have already asked!"

He blinked at her through the glasses on his face, one measly eyebrow raised. "The Tower of Bab-il! You're at the middle ground, between the upper and lower worlds. The place where the balance of the tower is maintained. To get out you'd have to find a way of flying or teleporting. There used to be a reverse mechanism to send all transported objects near the tower's vicinity back to a location just outside of its range but—"

"I don't understand what you're saying," she interrupted him, shaking her head in dismay.

"I can't send you back! There isn't enough power for that!"

Her spirits sunk. There was no way out?

"What kind of place is this, then?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You can't tell me anything about this place other than its name, and you can't get me out of here?"

"That is correct."

"If I'm trapped here, at least tell me who you are," she pressed.

"You're the intruder, tell me who _you _are!"

"I—" she stopped, realizing just then that she didn't even know her own name. "I can't remember," she answered, frowning.

There was a pause, while the man blinked at her in disbelief. "No name, is that it? Fine. I'll just call you Girl. Does that suit you? Now go away."

"Girl" frowned. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"Somewhere—_anywhere_—so long as you stay out of my way and don't bother my experiments."

"What? But how can you leave me here?" she implored. "I don't even know who I am, and there's no way to escape this place? You're just going to leave me here to die?"

"Don't get tetchy with me," he warned. "You dropped in uninvited. It's not my responsibility to baby sit you. I might also add that you're pointing a weapon at me. That doesn't make me want to help you any."

Girl looked down at the weapon in her hand, having completely forgotten it was there.

"I'm sorry," she managed. "I didn't know who you were going to be."

"As you can see, it's just me. I walked all the way down here to find the cause of the disturbance, got a knife pointed at me by some impertinent girl, and now you're impositioning yourself on me. I'm not a happy man, so if you don't mind, I'm going to return to my laboratory, and you can fend for yourself until you either find some way to fly, or dig your way out into the underground. Good luck."

Girl angrily sheathed her weapon and decisively placed her hands on her hips as the strange man began to walk away through the doorway he'd opened.

"Just hold on!" she stopped him. "What if there's something I can do? Maybe you need an assistant? You said you worked in a laboratory, right?"

The glasses on his face amplified his already buggy eyes to even larger proportions. "I don't have time to waste on prattling assistants. As I said, go away."

Girl stood in the hallway watching him turn his back on her and march away. Slowly, painfully, she began to follow him. She couldn't afford to lose him and be left alone in this tower. After a ways, he noticed she was following and turned long enough to flail his arms in the air.

"The great Doctor Lugae works alone!" he cried back at her. "Go away! Leave! Find someone else to bother!"

A doctor_,_ huh?Girl thought as she continued to trail behind. A doctor could cure wounds, couldn't they? Maybe even the wound that was sending piercing pain through her leg? So far he was the only person she knew, and doctor or no that meant he was the only person who could help her. If she could convince him that she had some usefulness…maybe just _maybe _she could stay with him long enough to find a way to escape…or at the very least remember who she was.

The Doctor eventually gave up trying to convince her to change course and doggedly shuffled through an endless series of passages. Girl did her best to keep up. This was her only chance at freedom, and she knew she couldn't give it up.

If she did, she'd be a nameless, homeless girl forever, and that was something she just couldn't abide. But who was this Doctor? Why was _he _here, and could she convince him to help her?

She watched him, his white coat flowing behind him as he walked with his equally white wispy hair sticking up in all directions from his head. She couldn't help but feel something cold worming into her gut. Did _she _know what she was getting herself into?

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Thanks for reading, everyone! Until next time…

myth


	2. Chapter 2

What you think you know you do not know

Author's note: I can assure you, this isn't Valvalis I will be time jumping dramatically at points. It'll be a longer piece but not THAT long.

Also, the doctor in this story may seem a lot more "normal" than he did in the game and there's a reason for that. He's still off his rocker, but not quite as maniacally as he was in the game.

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Chapter Two

One long corridor led to another. The lights slid past her eyes, and her focus began to waver. She was weakening, she could tell. She plodded after the doctor up a series of staircases, her leg rebelling at every step. When would he stop moving?

The injury was worsening. The muscle ached, and she could feel her skin pulling apart instead of knitting together. There was blood seeping through her clothing and down her shin. Thinking about it made her dizzy, so she resolved to simply placing one foot in front of the other and keeping her thoughts on anything but the pain. _Just stop moving_ she prayed.

To her dismay, her prayers went unanswered. The doctor paid her hardly any attention on their ascent, and she knew it was her own fault for following, but how many stairs could the man climb? He nattered on continuously about things she didn't understand, and his peculiar conversations with himself and quick spastic pace, made her believe that whatever was waiting for him at the end of this journey of theirs must be important.

After climbing what seemed to be countless staircases, the doctor finally came to a stop at the entrance of a small darkened chamber. She vaguely observed him fiddle with some gadgets in the wall, and a faint glow then filled the space.

_So this is where he lives_, she thought dully, looking around her. It was all so strange, so inorganic. Had he been living alone in this place for very long? He scurried around the room frantically flipping switches and studying dials while she stood in the doorway watching. He'd rushed back to this?

Knowing he wasn't going to accommodate her, she searched the room for a chair—anything to rest on. She found a surface that looked suitable for a chair and sat down on it, relieving the weight from her leg. She emitted a sigh of tremendous relief. The pain was still agonizing, but even simply removing weight from her leg had done wonders already. She inspected the wound gingerly with her fingers, wondering just how bad the damage really was. It was a deep gash from midway down her thigh to just above her knee. It was red and swollen and incredibly tender to the touch. It occurred to her that it might be infected, but without medicine, there was nothing to be done about it. She looked up, wondering if the Doctor could do anything for her, or if he even _would_. He still wasn't looking at her, as if she didn't exist at all, and his constant movement became a blur to her eyes. The dizziness was returning and her eyelids were just beginning to droop when suddenly the blur that was the doctor froze and pointed to her in shock.

"Hm?" she grunted, blinking. Had he finally decided to help her, she wondered?

"You—you're bleeding all over my workspace!!" he cried. "You're going to short circuit something! Got off, get _off!_"

Groaning, her tired body tried to stand, but her feet felt so heavy and her head so light... She'd barely moved when her knees buckled and she plummeted to the floor. The pain in her leg exploded and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

The doctor furiously hovered around her like some nervous animal. "Now you're bleeding on my floor!" he shrieked, flailing his arms.

She ignored his protests and tried to keep her eyes open, tried to stay alert.

"Are the lights supposed to look like that?" she murmured, slurring her words together.

"Stop that, do you hear me? Stay awake! I don't have time to deal with this! You're not even supposed to be here! I told you not to follow me, and see, you're getting in my way already!"

She barely heard him. She was so tired…all she wanted to do was sleep. The pain was too much, the exhaustion too great….

Gradually the room around her faded to a murky black.

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She awoke with a headache and a throb in her thigh. She was lying flat on something hard and uncomfortable. The lights above her buzzed peculiarly, and she could hear machinery churning away someplace far beneath her.

Experimentally, she moved her limbs. The pain was still present, and so was the weakness, though it wasn't as bad as before. She slowly pushed herself upright and looked around. This new room was long and dimly lit, and as far as she could tell, she was the only person in it. She slipped her feet over the edge of the slab she'd been laying on to stand, but when she looked up, she was startled to see a girl watching her, half buried in shadows. She gazed back, unsure of what to make of this other girl with the uncanny stare. For several minutes, neither of them moved.

"Who are you?" she asked, but received no answer.

A thought suddenly occurred to her.

She slowly limped forward, noticing that the girl mimicked her actions. Only inches away, she extended a hand and found that her fingers met with a sheet of glass. Her eyes widened in surprise and understanding. Her reflection! This person was her!

She looked at herself again, studying her appearance, amazed that she had forgotten her own reflection. Long straight brown hair, blue-gray eyes, a slender face...

"This is who I am?" She asked the mirror.

She pulled at her cheeks, her ears.

"This is what I look like…"

"You're awake!" the doctor's dry crackly voice spoke from behind.

Her observations cut short, she spun to see him standing in a doorway in his strange lab coat.

For a moment she had nothing to say, but then she pointed to her leg. "Did you cure me?"

He wrinkled his forehead, his wiry eyebrows knitting together. "Tricky things, wounds. Tools can do marvelous things with pieces of flesh. But _don't_ overexert yourself or you'll start bleeding on my floor again! I'm no mage, your leg will have to heal the old-fashioned way."

She blinked in confusion.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"Two, three—no, two days. No, four."

Her head nodded in loose circles. She wished he would make up his mind, but either way, he had cured her of her wound even if it had taken him far longer to do so than she would have liked.

"Thank you for mending my leg."

He puckered his face and frowned. Had he never been thanked for his efforts before?

"Yes, well, I couldn't have you dying in my laboratory. Then I'd have to find someplace to put your corpse."

She raised an eyebrow. Even though she'd lost her memories, even _she_ knew what not to say in such a situation. She offered a small smile to assure him of her sincerity. He scratched his head nervously and she took the moment to look away.

She glanced back at the mirror and saw again the proud features of her face--the high cheek bones and defiant brow…the flashing eyes…

"I wonder how I got here," she said softly.

"Mmm," he grunted. "I wonder that too. Maybe your people will take you back," he said sounding hopeful.

She pursed her lips, still staring at her reflection. "Whoever _they_ are."

When she looked back at the doorway the doctor was gone. She limped over to it and leaned against the doorframe. He was in the other room occupied with strange projects as if he'd never left them.

"What now?" she asked.

"You leave," he sniveled. "You're useless to me, nothing but a child. I don't know how the tower's sensors even picked up on someone so small. Unless of course, you possessed magical powers of some kind and if that's the case…" he trailed off, organizing small phials on a shelf.

She frowned. "Magical powers? Do you know anything about them?"

"About magic?" he laughed dryly. "Not really, no. I have, however, been called a magician with machines."

She frowned, having hoped to find something out about either herself or this place.

"I don't understand. What do you do with machines? What are they like?"

He noisily cleared his throat. "I can't say."

"Why not?"

He turned around, his beady eyes flashing fiercely.

"You misunderstand. It's not that simple. Telling you means involving you, and I can't have any distractions or complications to my plan. You're supposed to be gone, remember?"

"Your plan? A plan to get out of here?"

"No!" he shot back. "I don't care if I stay here or not, so long as I have plenty of work to do I'm perfectly happy staying where I am!"

Now she was curious. Who would voluntarily stay in such a place with no way of leaving?

"Work?"

"I do research!"

"For what?"

"For someone else!" he snapped, and then widened his eyes in surprise. "You! You!"

"What?" she asked, bewildered by his response.

"You tricked me!"

"Tricked you into doing what?"

"Maybe I should have just let you die," he said sourly.

She extended both hands in a placating fashion. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

He tapped his chin with a finger. "I suppose not. You did lose your memories after all."

She stared at him in disbelief, and decided to guide the conversation down a different direction.

"So you really live and work here alone?"

"I like it that way."

"You don't ever get…lonely?

"I have my creations to keep me company. I'm perfectly happy. Humans are complicated. Complications are bad. I prefer the devoted compliance of something programmed to do as I say—much more reliable that way."

She nodded slowly, feigning that she understood what he'd said.

"You have no way of getting out of here," she prodded.

"I have no reason to leave!" he snapped.

"Then the only way to get out of this place is to fly or teleport using magic?"

He nodded.

She sighed. She had hoped he might know of _some_ way to help her leave, when an idea entered her head.

"What if you helped me find a way? Couldn't you build something?"

He shifted uncomfortably where he stood.

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. My superior wouldn't be pleased to know that I wasn't spending all my time on the projects he sanctioned."

"What if I helped you? Two people would get the work done twice as fast. Your 'superior' would never know."

"I can't. Too many variables. If he found out there was an intruder…"

"The sooner I leave, the less time you have to worry about me being discovered," she announced, trying to be as enthusiastic as possible to win his support.

"No! No, no no! You need to leave! Get out!"

She shut her eyes tight with frustration. He was going to make this difficult, but then, so was she. Some spark of memory reminded her that she was no pushover in the face of challenge. She'd find a way to convince him to help her, it just might take more time than she liked.

Somehow or another, finding a way out of this tower was another step to figuring out who she was and why she'd fallen so far from her own reality. If it meant helping this strange man complete his work, so be it.

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Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

He asked her to leave and she stayed. She asked him for help and he refused. The impasse that followed was one that lasted for several weeks, two stubborn entities deadlocked. Girl had taken to living in the room where she'd first awakened, sleeping on the cold metal slab that the Doctor didn't seem to mind lending out to her, so much as he didn't realize she was still there at all. She'd been trying to sleep for days, but stray thoughts kept her awake, and the rumbling of machinery was something to which she wasn't accustomed. It took her hours to drift off into slumber, and when it did, the dreams that took her were almost as strange as the world she woke to.

She knew she dreamt for what she saw was at first too natural and beautiful to be the stark empty place of the tower. Her thoughts swam circles and followed paths forgotten by her consciousness to places that she thought she'd lost to the darkness. The color and the sensations were at once too wonderful and too fleeting to describe or dwell upon, but she did recall feeling warmth. She felt the presence of others, perhaps those she'd left behind, and though she didn't know their faces, she recognized their existence and it stilled her doubts. As her sleep deepened, her mind sifted through thought after thought, until the world of color and movement that she'd stumbled upon was replaced by one that gradually became more calm; cooler, emptier. She stood in a world of white, hardly any shadows or contours to distinguish between the ground and the horizon and her eyes squinted at the harshness of this new place. She turned in all directions, hoping to find vestiges of life but found nothing but the white, a shroud much like the darkness she'd fallen through to reach the tower. Fear gripped her heart and she stopped turning, trying to calm her roiling emotions. She had finally slowed her breathing when she felt the presence of someone else.

She turned once more to see someone who hadn't been there moments before. She saw the back of a woman with long copper hair. Her garb was strange, but familiar somehow—sturdy leathers and fabrics worn tighter to the contours of her body. She had the appearance of one accustomed to moving swiftly and easily, her lithe frame strong, well-balanced. She carried small knives, strapped to the outside of her thighs with strips of black leather similar to the vest she wore. Her stance was formidable and her very presence exuded power—and danger. An inexplicable anger and fear rose in Girl, different from before. She wanted to see this woman's face. Who was she and why was she so armed? She strode forward only to have the woman begin walking away from her, leaving perfect droplets of red on the pure white ground. Girl stopped to stare at them in alarm, thinking at once that this must be a bad omen, and looked up again to see this woman without a face disappear into a white mist so bright it became blinding. Dismayed, Girl looked away, but the light seemed to follow her, envelop her, until the brilliance forced her to wakefulness.

She awoke with a bright crystalline light blazing above her head. Gone was the woman with the copper hair and the mist. In their place was the stark ceiling of the room in which she'd learned to call her own. She sat up on her slab, rubbing her eyes. It hadn't been days, but a few weeks before her leg had finally decided to mend, and the resulting time spent laying on the hard slab had left her muscles and joints sore. Her mind had been playing games with her as well, mixing the elements of her current surroundings with snatches of memories. She could hardly discern one from the other and they often left her wracked with confusion when she awoke each morning.

"Girl!" she heard the doctor cry out from the other room. So he _had _remembered she was there. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"What!" she called back, stretching her aching muscles and hopping down from her slab.

She walked into the lab, and stared at the Doctor balefully. These last few weeks, he'd done nothing but advance his own research and ignore her almost completely. Had he finally changed his mind?

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, keeping her voice as light and neutral as possible. Really she was irritated.

"I thought I told you to leave!" he responded.

"You tell me that everyday and everyday I refuse," she retorted.

"Do you see those metal rods and joints over there?" he asked, pointing to a pile of discarded metal bits.

She raised an appraising brow. "Yes I see them, what do you want me to do with them?"

"Take the cloth on the table over there and oil them. All of them."

Her lips tightened into a thin straight line. "That could take days. Why did you throw so many parts away in the first place?"

"They didn't fit the way I wanted so I let them rest there. I might be able to use them after all. Maybe I can find a use for you as well, if you're so determined to stay."

Was this an invitation?

Girl scratched her head. There were easily thousands of parts and pieces to be sorted and oiled. When the doctor said he'd allowed the pieces to "rest" he'd really meant stacked in a tremendous heap.

"Does that mean you'll help me find a way to leave? That's what you want, isn't it? Me to leave?"

"I'll think of something," he mused.

That wasn't exactly a no, Girl thought hopefully.

"Where would you like the oiled pieces?" she asked.

He turned for the first time in the conversation and casually flipped a hand to no specific location. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

She stalked over to the pile and restrained an urge to kick it.

Oil. The rag. Right.

With rag and canister of oil in hand, she set to work on the meticulous and menial task of oiling _every _single piece. At first she aggressively ran the cloth across the metal, releasing days of frustration through her hands, forcing her anger upon each new piece. After a while, however, she exhausted her arms and rather lazily pulled the cloth along at a sustained, sluggish pace. Her pile of oiled pieces was still rather small for all the hours she'd been working, and it made her grimace with loathing. Just _what _was he going to use these for?

He'd been tinkering with phials for quite some time and she cast an irritated glance in his direction. Each phial was a different color and the consistency of the fluids within were all different as well. He claimed he was no magician, but there was something not quite right about whatever was in those phials. When asked, he'd been evasive in his answers.

"They're medicines. Food. Drinks from the outerworld."

To each answer, she'd yawned. He was such a liar, even a blind could see that. A deaf too.

While she was watching him work with the mysterious substances, she noticed him beginning to turn and resumed her attention to her own work. For a few minutes there were no sounds besides that of her cloth swooshing across metal. She waited, she could feel his eyes on her back, knew he wanted to say something, but merely waited for the words to come.

Come they did, slowly, painfully, as if they were being pulled out of him by chains.

"I imagine you'll be needing food," he began. "There's also something I would like to speak to you about."

She whipped around, surprised—astonished even. He was offering her food? It was better than having to steal from his stores as she'd been doing for the last few weeks without his knowledge. Maybe he'd offer her something better than the stale bread and dry cheese he kept in the crates in the back. The thought filled her with excitement.

"Of—of course!" she replied, and immediately after his back was turned to her again, she scolded herself for sounding so enthusiastic.

He set his phials aside and walked out of the room. After living in the tower for a few weeks, she understood that he wasn't about to ask her to follow. She practically threw down her cloth and ran across the room to do so. She followed him down a corridor past several closed doors, and finally stepped into a lit chamber with a square table and large wooden crates posing as chairs.

He rummaged through a drawer and withdrew a small handful of fruits. Seeing them awoke in her a memory.

"Risa fruit!" she gasped with delight. They were sweet and tangy, full of juice.

His eyes widened and after he set the fruits down on the table, he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"So you _do _know what these are?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, pleased that some of her memory was returning.

He settled down onto a crate and sat cross-legged. She sat on the other crate, and eagerly—more eagerly than she wanted to seem—accepted the fruit he shoved across the table toward her. She sunk her teeth greedily into the fruit's soft skin and relished the juice dribbling down her chin. She didn't care what peculiar looks the doctor might give her, she was simply happy to be eating fresh fruit. Fresh. The thought brought her back to reality. She studied the doctor very seriously.

"Did someone deliver these recently?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "They just deliver things. They don't stay long."

"Does anyone know I'm here?"

He shook his head wearily. "They had no interest in my work."

"Oh."

She had lost interest in the fruit all of a sudden. It was the taste of false freedom.

"What?"

She looked away. "I was just thinking about what the world 'out there' is like. I really don't remember much of it at all."

His eyes got an unusual spark to them. "What _do _you remember?"

She shrugged and her eyes took on a distant cast. "I remember mountains so tall that when you stood at their base they seemed to blot out the sky. I remember snippets of faces and places—cities mostly. Wooden homes and small villages."

"That sword you carry, you were trained to use it?"

"I—yes, I believe so. I don't think I would travel with a sword at my waist if I wasn't."

"You must be one of _them_."

"One of _them? _Who are they?"

The Doctor had a strange look on his face. The look a small child gets when they have a secret they know they're supposed to keep but can't contain any longer. "Do you remember the name of the country that surrounds this tower?"

Try as she might, Girl couldn't remember at all. "No," she answered.

"Eblan. Kingdom of the ninjas."

"Ninjas," she repeated.

"They use swords like that, I think. If you 'fell' into the chasm around the tower, you had to have come from there."

"Then it's close!"

"Well, it's not _far,_" he amended.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Again he seemed to fidget on his chair with that smug, eager expression. "Because—I—might have use of that weapon of yours."

Both brows shot up in surprise. "My weapon?"

Now he was sitting forward, his hands on the table as if to propose a business arrangement. "If you could remember how to use that weapon, maybe you could do something else for me."

She made a skeptical face. "How's that?"

"There are…creatures in this tower. Some of them have special abilities and properties. In…in order for many of my projects to work, I need samples."

"Samples of what?" she pressed.

"Blood."

"Blood?" she asked.

"There is no better way to learn about something than from its blood. I haven't had a delivery of samples in quite some time and my research will get behind without them. If you were to remember how to use your ninja craft, or whatever it is your people do, you could retrieve some for me. Perhaps you might find something to help you find your way home again."

Now this was unexpected. There was some merit in his proposal, but she could sense the real purpose. He just wanted her to do the difficult work for him. He was too afraid to go after the samples himself. He was, after all, unarmed and, as far as she could tell, old.

"Fine. I'll do it, but I want a blanket. Also, you had better promise me you'll find some way to send me home. I don't have my life to devote to machines and strange fluids."

"You'll do it?"

For a moment, Girl thought he might jump up and start clapping his hands like an excited child.

"I want a blanket," she persisted.

"Yes, yes. You'll have a blanket," he assured her, nodding emphatically.

"And a way home?"

"I'll think of something. I promise."

She screwed up her features and glared at him. She hoped he'd make good on his word. In the very least, she'd be able to learn the lay of the tower, perhaps figure out the passages while she went looking for "samples".

"I may not remember who I am or much of where I come from, but I do know one thing, and that is I don't like to be taken for granted. My help isn't cheap. Your research for my freedom," she warned.

"That's all very good. I'm sure this will work out well for the both of us. Now hurry up and eat your food," he prodded.

"Why do I have to hurry?"

"As you said, there are lots of pieces to oil and it could take days! I need them ready as soon as possible!"

The reminder of the work she'd just left behind brought her blood to a boil. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She fought the urge to scream. _You'd better keep your promise, old man, or I'll find a different use for that sword of mine than collecting samples_, she thought bitterly, while ever so slowly eating the rest of her fruit_. _

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Thanks again for reading and reviewing! And yes, I have a ninja obsession :)

Till next chapter

myth


	4. Chapter 4

Rinavyr

Ah, the long awaited update! It's been almost a year -- Sorry, those of you waiting…but I had to finish The Summoned Land before I could devote enough time to come back to this fic. For those of you who've already read the first three chapters…I highly suggest going back and reading them again. I changed some of the content, so things are slightly different…just a head's up. Those of you new to this fic (as in the end of August 2008), you're already caught up :)

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Chapter Four

_Click. Click. Click. Click. Tock. Click. Click. Click. Click. Tock._

The sound of the mechanicals coming to life and the gears catching in rhythmic concert had become a comfort to Girl as the weeks drew on. Everything had its own synchrony, its own heartbeat, and the more she grew accustomed to this strange environment, the more morbidly fascinated with it she became. The mechanicals were like living beings with metal parts, all making their unique sounds, and performing different functions—some with quirks and others with lightning efficiency.

The Doctor had prevented her from peeking at the more complicated mechanisms, but she had spent the last few months greasing parts and tightening bolts, and figured that sooner or later she'd figure it out for herself, just what he was hiding.

In the meantime, it was her means to escape that worried her the most. It had been a while—a month or two perhaps?—since she and the doctor had struck their bargain. So far neither had succeeded in their respective tasks, and until she recovered a few vital parts of her memory, she wasn't going anywhere. The longer her memory escaped her, the longer the Doctor had her doing abysmally dismal tasks, and until then, he would pursue nothing that would aid in her escape. They were at another impasse, and Girl was endlessly frustrated that it was her memory stalling the entire process.

She was working on one of his smaller machines, fixing a broken joint, and he was hovering again. Always a step or two behind—dogged, grating. His presence made Girl's back twitch, knowing that his eyes were boring through her with their shrewd intensity. Of the time she'd spent with him so far, she wished for once that he was still ignoring her existence.

Why had he brought up the confusing notion of ninjas, leaving the quandary of her origins at her feet to figure out? She hadn't made heads or tails of it, what being a ninja meant, what skills she was meant to have, or how she was to deal with it.

She stole a glance in his direction, catching a glimpse of his wild hair writhing around his head, and his glasses enlarging the size of his eyes to enormous saucers. His gaze met hers. There was silence, and she slowly eeked her attention to the clutter she'd previously been attending, hoping he wouldn't bring it up…that he'd leave the matter be…but her hopes were squashed. He took a deep breath, as if meaning to speak, and she scowled.

"Have you figured it out yet?" He inquired.

"No," she said simply.

"Is it difficult, carrying a blade? All I need are a few samples."

"I don't see you inventing a genius teleportation device, either," she pointed out.

"Because you're not fulfilling your end of the bargain."

"I can't help it that my memory's faulty!" she shot back, feeling heat rise to her face.

"Then I can't help you," he replied.

Girl spun on her heels. "Now hold on a minute. We set no time-frame on this bargain! I can't be expected to re-learn a craft within a few weeks!"

He adjusted his spectacles haughtily. "You said yourself that sooner would be better. I'm busy and you're the freeloader, so in that case, I think _you _should be the one making good on your agreement first."

"What am I supposed to do, hit my head against a wall until something just _comes _to me?"

The Doctor folded his hands in front of him with his fingers steepled, looking innocently up at the ceiling. "If you think it would help…"

"No!" Girl snapped. Throwing a wrench down onto the tile, where something cracked and sizzled. Within instants that section of the room and some portions beyond went completely black.

"What have you done! Stupid girl!" he shrieked into the dark.

"You should know better than to live in a house made of glass!" she retorted, taken aback by the instant response her outburst had caused.

"We'll have to re-route power again," the Doctor complained. "You're a power snatcher, that's what you are! Ruin my experiments on the day you arrive, and when you claim to be helping me, you're still doing the same thing!"

"How are we supposed to re-route power?" she asked, looking around futilely for anything that glowed or was attached to a switch. He walked past her, shaking his head, powder white hair looking like a giant spider in silhouette.

"There's a switch a few levels down, outside of the lab. You could probably turn that switch on. It will be dark, though…"

"Are there any monsters that way?"

He turned to look back at her. "No."

She stomped past him, veering for the doors that led out of the lab and into unknown territory.

"How will I know which switch?"

"When the lights turn back on," he replied. "Good luck," he said again, waving foolishly.

She narrowed her eyes and stepped into the dark corridor beyond the lab rooms. She reached to her belt out of habit and found her knife there where it always was. She didn't like to go anywhere without it, even though she didn't know how to use it. It was only after she'd stepped into the dark corridor, to her great chagrin, that she realized she'd been stuck going on one of the Doctor's errands again. A switch three levels down? Had he said where? She couldn't remember, but glaring back the way she'd come, she was too stubborn to ask him for any more directions.

Her clothing, covered in oil, dust, and grime, was all she had other than the knife, as she ventured into the mazelike unknown. If anything lived down here, it would be able to smell her from a mile away. Now of all times she wished for a new set of clothes.

They were dark, the corridors. She activated the faint floor lights with every section she reached, but it was only enough to illuminate a few feet at a time, the main power somehow cut by her tantrum with the wrench. This place was too fragile for its size. But what was it the Doctor had told her once? That the entire tower had once been lit? It had lain dormant for centuries, nothing but rogue creatures roaming the hallways and staircases. Whatever had powered the tower was now only enough for the barest of uses, and apparently, the slightest disturbance could send things haywire. How, then, had the Doctor come to be here? And who was his superior? In all the time she'd spent with the Doctor in secret, she still hadn't come to discover that answer.

She walked on her toes, something that seemed only natural to hide the sound of her footsteps. There were twists and bends, and a number of staircases, and she mentally kept note of them while she moved. It would be difficult enough finding her way back, if she failed to fix the problem she'd caused.

One level down, and several corridors toward the tower's center, she began to hear noises that weren't made by machines. She halted and craned her neck in the direction of what she heard. She crept forward and noticed that the sounds began to grow louder when she neared a sharp bend in the corridor. It was the sound of rough scraping, like a coarse fabric scuttling across the floor.

_Snake._

The memory was there before she'd even thought about it. It was the same with most things of late—small and unsuspecting mental cues that sparked the forgotten realms of her mind.

The knife was again in her hand, sturdy, solid. It felt good in the contours of her palm, but what to do with it—how to move her arm and make full use of the blade's bite…it was lost at her shoulder. The sound grew louder still and then moved past, lessening and slinking away again into darkness.

Girl relaxed her stance and let out a breath.

Two more levels to go and the Doctor had been wrong about the presence of monsters. She peeked past the corner, listening for anything else, and when she deemed it safe, continued walking down the ominously long corridor, keeping her ears tuned to everything around her. There was something eery about this place. There was already one creature loose in the halls. Was there anything else lurking with her in the dark?

She avoided mishap on the next two floors as she traveled downward, but as she searched for the switch, she noticed that something was again out of place. There began to be a steady, sluggish dripping sound from several feet forward, and she slowed her progress to inspect the unusual puddle glistening on the floor. It was too thick to be ordinary water, and it dropped down like slaver.

She was wondering if she should report to the Doctor, when the main lights in the corridor suddenly turned on and the source of the dripping moved into the still dark recesses of the ceiling. Girl's heart began to beat faster as she looked up. She felt something fall on her shoulder and she jumped, trying to see into the darkened rafters where the light didn't reach. There was an amorphous shape creeping there. Girl couldn't figure it out, but a soft gurgling giggle had begun to reverberate off of the metal rafters.

"Who's there?" Girl demanded.

The giggling grew louder, and Girl had to jump back as a steady line of slobber fell from the ceiling. A body followed it, slimy, glistening, and grotesque. It was the body of a worm or a slug and the face of a woman, deformed. She had teeth like spikes and dead eyes that blinked at her hungrily.

Girl was spellbound, almost glued to the floor staring at this horror, watching hands of pale gray with clawed fingers reach for her. They were only a few inches from her face when instinct took over. In one fluid motion the blade from Girl's belt was in her hand again and swept outward in an arc that sliced through the creature's hands, severing them at the wrists. The creature screamed in half a dozen octaves at once and Girl gritted her teeth, terrified and dumbstruck by what she'd just done. She ran. Retracing her steps like a being crazed and raced through the corridors, staircases, and finally threw herself through the lab doors, falling to the floor still clutching the dagger in her hand.

Within a moment, the Doctor was there, staring down at her, but more particularly, at the blade's edge and the blue viscous fluid still staining its metal.

"I take it you didn't find the switch," he said insipidly.

Fighting to regain her breath, Girl looked up at him with eyes like ice. "There _was _no switch, and if there was, it was hidden somewhere only _you _would know. That's not why you sent me! You turned the power back on from here!" she shouted, furious that he'd tricked her.

She went to wipe off the blade, but the Doctor leapt closer all of a sudden and pulled the dagger out of her hand.

"No, don't clean the blade!" he cried. "This is just the sort of specimen I've been looking for!"

He held the dagger up into the light and studied the monster blood still clinging there like jelly. "Yes, this should do nicely," he murmured to himself, shuffling off to one of his work tables to do goodness knew what.

Girl picked herself up from the floor and followed him, waiting for an explanation.

After several long minutes of talking to himself and his phials, he turned to see her standing behind him. "What creature was it?" he asked.

His lack of surprise was in itself surprising.

"You knew something was there," she fumed. "You told me it was safe."

"How else could I have gotten you to go? Besides, necessity made you wield your weapon. Your foray could not have been more successful."

Whatever elation she might have felt at regaining some of her former skill was masked by anger. "What kind of trickery is this!" she shouted at him. "I could have died!"

"Well, that's one way of escaping the tower," he observed.

Girl rested both hands on her hips and continued to follow him around his workroom.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to study this, obviously."

"For what purpose?" she insisted.

"This creature, describe it to me," he barreled on.

"Slimy, like a worm, with the face of a woman," she answered snappishly.

"Excellent. Red or gray?"

"What?"

"Red or gray—the color."

"Gray? I don't know, I was more concerned with not _dying!_"

"Don't be so dramatic. You did fine, and now it seems we can finally move forward with our bargain," he said, pushing her out of his way.

"But what I did, I did by instinct—I can't go about doing that whenever I want!"

"Is it really so difficult to slash a blade?" he asked.

Girl had half a mind to strike him in the face as he began prattling on about the fluid on the dagger again.

"And this is what you meant by samples—you want me to go after _those?!"_

"I thought I said they'd be monsters…Oh well. You kill monsters, I build contraptions. Do you want to leave, or don't you? I, for one, don't want you hanging around if visitors come by."

"Killing monsters is one thing if there's some forewarning! Don't you ever send me into another ambush!"

He looked at her over the rims of his glasses. "Maybe you're not a ninja after all. You lack their joy of stealth and surprise."

"I don't know anything about the ninjas! I don't know who I am or what I'm capable of, I already told you! And I said I'd find out in my own time!"

"Now I've given you a head start. Can you hand me that phial of white liquid?"

"If the bargain still stands, then you have to start working tomorrow on something that will help me escape."

"Will you hunt the corridors tomorrow?"

Girl practically shoved the phial into his palm. "I'll 'hunt' as you call it, but I can't guarantee anything."

He smiled at her, displaying his discolored and crooked teeth. "Good. The deal still stands."

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Author's note: The creatures that Girl is sent to hunt by the Doctor aren't necessarily monsters from the game. Some of them are, and some are just ordinary creatures that the Doctor experiments on and essentially turns into nastier versions of the original monsters. This is my explanation of why the monsters are noted to be "suddenly increasing in numbers and ferocity" by the actual game. Girl doesn't know about this yet…

I keep switching between knife and dagger when talking about the weapon that Girl carries. It's really a…let me not butcher this…a "wakazashi" but she doesn't know the name at this point, so I'm alternating.

This chapter was short, but I've been writing bits of it during my classes (bad me), so you'll just have to be patient, I guess :)

Thanks for still reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Updates! I haven't updated this in a looong time either, but surprise! New chapter! I'm being productive this week…I give you chapter five. Some strange things happen, a stranger visits…sadly, nothing explodes, but y'know…

Enjoy!

Chapter Five

One thing Girl would not stand for was being tricked. The first encounter she'd had in the corridors was not her idea of clever. It was conniving. The Doctor had fooled her into doing his errands too many times, and while she _did _intend to make herself useful, she didn't like doing so as per his instructions. Was she naturally naïve or was this the result of memory loss? Either way, she was resolved to be prepared for his next challenge, whatever it might be. She wouldn't be caught off guard again.

Everyday Girl worked on machinery for part of the day, and practiced with her blade for the rest, trying to coax more memories to the surface. She'd gone out hunting the day after the worm woman encounter, but it had been misadventure after misadventure. Apparently looking for danger and stumbling upon it were two very different things.

She was practicing with the blade now, pulling it through the air one way, slicing it another, searching for a form. Why was it so difficult to remember something that seemed so intuitive?

"Calm down, just calm down," she told herself. "That's what the masters would always tell you; you never relax." She blinked in surprise and almost lost her footing. "The masters," she croaked out when she'd steadied herself. Where on earth had that come from? She closed her eyes, and took a deep jittery breath, trying to remember. But there was nothing. She started again with the blade, sweeping it up and down and around, testing its weight in her fingers. It felt right, but why did her mind scream WRONG WRONG WRONG at every step?

"Well, I'm _sorry _I can't get anything right, you stupid mind! Reveal a few of your secrets and then we'll talk!" she scolded herself, stepping and hopping haphazardly across the open room with no particular rhyme or reason.

Finally she stamped her feet in frustration and nearly threw the knife down onto the tile before she remembered the unfortunate result of her last tantrum and staid her hand.

She shook her arms loose at the shoulders and broke into a run, closing her eyes and letting her limbs move in any way they wished. She felt like she was flying, arms like wings spread out. She saw it then, the technique—the rhythm that she'd been missing. She refused to open her eyes and lose it again. Instead she imagined a dirt courtyard all around her, sandy colored dust covering sandaled feet, while she danced a solitary waltz to the shouting of orders like a barrage of percussion. She was in the center of it all, stepping, striking, parrying, leaping, sinking, spinning, and stepping again. It was a deadly dance, and she carried her knife like an ornament, a precious fan. It was part of her arm like a bladed hand. She remembered that form, the movements well-known to her muscles. She didn't remember its name, but she couldn't stop it, not now. She was in the middle of a turn when she opened her eyes and saw the Doctor watching. The courtyard faded away and the cadence that had rung out like a song in her mind bled into empty air.

"Now _this_ is something."

"Something, yes, but it isn't much," she replied, all exhilaration gone.

"You couldn't use _that _technique to bring me a few specimens _alive _and not dismembered?"

"You said to hunt the creatures, not bring them to you alive."

"Then this time I will clarify. I have a job for you."

"I'm listening," she answered curtly, slipping the knife back into its sheath.

"It's a job that requires a certain amount of finesse, something like what you were just doing now. There's a creature I'd like you to capture. A cat—or…well I suppose that's the closest description."

"A cat?" she asked, scrunching her brow.

"You don't know what a cat is? How useless can you be? It's an animal with pointed ears, whiskers, and a tail—this bunch might have spots, but I can't be sure."

"What do you want me to do with it once I capture it?"

"Return it here, of course. There are plenty of places to put a small cat, after all."

"I didn't know you kept pets."

"NOT PETS. _Test_ subjects."

"Very well," she answered, beginning to walk away. "You're never going to tell me what you do with them, are you?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Weren't you leaving?

Girl emitted an angry huff and stalked off.

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In the past several weeks, Girl had become well acquainted with the hallways that surrounded the Doctor's lab. Once you understood the general design, you could figure out where power panels were supposed to be located as well as doorways. There were several strange empty rooms, but she normally kept to the hallways, and didn't spend much time exploring dead ends. Needless to say, she was no longer a stranger to many of the twists and turns of this level of the tower, but the quarry the Doctor wanted her to find was not where she was used to hunting and it required descending much further into the tower's core than she was used to.

Sneaking through the halls, an idea came to her from she knew not where. She suddenly felt the urge to make a game out of how quietly she could walk. How many shadows could she step between? How long could she hold her breath and not make a sound? She liked this new diversion, and it helped pass the time. She wasn't seeing a hint of the creature the Doctor wanted her to find, but she did see evidence of the first creature she'd found. There was a trail of slime across the tiled floor mixed with dark blue blood. She avoided it on her toes, carefully stepping to the side. She continued moving. Three levels down, she noticed a change in the air. It was stuffier and there were more noises filling the corridors. Mewling and growling grew louder as she tiptoed closer, looking into the shadows for what she hoped would be the cats she sought. A lithe body on four padded feet pounced from shadow to shadow, startling Girl. It was small-ish and quick and was gone just as fast as it had come.

Girl drew the blade from its sheath and concentrated. She'd have to be fast. One strike would—would what? Kill it? She lowered her arm and remembered that the Doctor had wanted it alive. This was going to require a different strategy. She put the blade away and crept low to the ground, moving closer to where she'd seen the creature. Surprise would have to be her weapon now.

She bent to one knee, and slowed her breathing, attuning herself to the environment. She waited for ages in the shadow of the hall, and while she waited, she began to perceive things, vibrations on the air and shifts in the light that she'd never noticed before. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't think what. Someplace she'd been before? Something she'd done? For a moment, she thought she had become the animal she was lying in wait to ambush, but she shook her head clear of these distracting thoughts, and tried to focus on her task anew. The hallway returned as it was to her senses, and she was suddenly aware of the mewling growing louder. Girl blinked. There was a beast directly in front of her, stalking _her _and drawing closer. It stared at her with luminous green eyes and as it stepped into a pool of light, she saw its lip curled up in a menacing fashion. She swallowed slowly, feeling foolish for allowing her defenses down even for a short time. They stared at each other for a long moment, the feline growling its threats and Girl frozen to the floor. Between panicked heart beats, she became aware again of the knife at her side. Not the blade, but the hilt, though she'd have to be quick. She slowly inched her hand to the sheath, never taking her eyes off of the cat while her fingers touched the hard leather and metal. She grasped the sheath, pulling it out of her belt while propelling herself to her feet. The cat pounced, and swinging wide, Girl made use of the knife's blunt hilt, hoping to subdue the creature with a well-placed blow. She missed and the feline's paws crashed into her chest, knocking her backwards. The two fell to the floor, fists and claws at the fore. Girl threw the feline off with difficulty only to have it return a moment later with fangs bared. She went to great trouble of keeping the sharp teeth away while claws raked her arms and the ruckus filled the halls. They grappled for several minutes before Girl was able to get a hold of her knife again and use it like a cudgel. She struck the beast at the base of the skull with a whip of the sheath and it crumpled; legs beneath it, unconscious.

Girl plunged to the floor in relief, hooking the knife and its sheath back in her belt. She managed three breaths when more mewling emanated from down the hall. Girl looked up in a hurry, exhausted enough by the effort it took to subdue this one animal, and not eager to fight any more of them. She took hold of the unconscious creature and draped it across her shoulders, slouching under the weight. She glanced down the hallways again and felt her chest constrict. Another feline stood watching her—massive, with eyes of burnished gold, whiskers the length of whips and claws that clicked dangerously on the tile floor. This was no simple cat—this was a monster!

Girl swiveled and ran, sprinting through the hall with the unconscious animal still on her shoulders. She barreled around corners and up staircases, muscles aching with the hard use and wounds burning as sweat mingled with blood. She could hear the monster chasing, roars bouncing off the walls and floors as it loped after her.

Only one more turn, she thought to herself as she remembered a door waiting for her just beyond a bend. The beast was closing in, about to reach her with its claws, and in that instant, she lost her footing and plummeted to the tiled floor. The burden she'd been carrying flew from her shoulders, as she hit the tiles hard and lost her bearing. When she looked up, the beast was on top of her and staring down, slaver glistening on its enormous fangs. And then nothing happened. Girl blinked and blinked again, but the monster did nothing to her, merely looked confused, backed away, and finally turned tail and ran.

Girl sat up, or rather tried to sit up and failed. None of her limbs felt like what she knew. The floor felt differently, and she felt a strange weight pulling on the sides of her face. She looked to where her legs should have been and saw paws instead. She panicked for a moment and tried to figure out what had happened. She was hyper-sensitive to everything around her, much like what she had experienced earlier on, but more intense. She could feel vibrations in the floor, fluctuations in the air and…claws? She looked at her toes and practiced flexing the tendons, seeing what would happen. Claws extended and retracted, and it was fascinating, but…what was going on? She realized she was still laying on her side and rolled to push herself up. She had four legs, four paws, a tail—a tail? She walked in a full circle just to be sure, and sure enough.

"What?" she asked of no one. "I've turned into a…a cat?"

But no sooner had she said it, that her paws returned to being hands, and her arms and legs and the rest of her body returned to normal. She sat in a befuddled heap, wondering how in the world she'd just accomplished such a feat. She pinched herself to be sure she was herself again, and finally stood up, unsteady on her real legs. Her quarry was still sprawled on the floor where it had fallen, thankfully still unconscious, and Girl picked it up and slung it around her shoulders once more, choosing to ignore what had just happened. It made too little sense and she'd have to worry about it later when she was sure she was safe.

She let out a tremendous sigh and continued her journey up the tower. It took a lot longer to climb the several levels that led to the lab. Her muscles ached even more than before and her wounds were still bleeding with the agitation of movement. She tried to pick up the pace, thinking that other creatures would pursue her at the scent of the blood, and seriously doubting she'd be able to save herself again with a miraculous shape-change. Stair after stair she plodded, jostling the load on her shoulders. At long last she stepped into the lab, and slid the cat off her shoulders and onto a work table.

"I have no idea why you'd want such a troublesome creature as a pet, but it's all yours!" she called out into the various chambers of the Doctor's lab. "Hey! Come get your animal!" she said again when she received no response.

The Doctor suddenly bolted out of one of the smaller chambers and quickly took hold of the cat before disappearing into yet another room. He returned in a frenzy, barely looked at Girl; in fact, staring straight through her, completely distracted. Girl watched in confusion.

"What is it?" she asked.

He spun, looked directly at her, and all of a sudden pushed her out of the room, guiding her through a series of other rooms and finally throwing her into a space no larger than a cabinet.

"Stay. Here," he hissed, turning off lights and shutting the door, leaving Girl in the dark. Indignant and curious, she pushed the door open and poked her head out. The entire room was dark aside from a spear of light coming from the main chamber where most of the Doctor's tables and gadgets were located. She slowly walked closer, to see what the Doctor was hiding so fiercely.

She paused, half-hidden behind a pillar near the wall. Machinery hummed all around her, but she could still hear the booming voice of an unknown person coming from the main chamber. For some reason, the warmth left her body and her wounds began to throb painfully. She didn't remember much of her life before arriving here, but this feeling she knew she'd never felt before. It was a different kind of terror, a stifling, choking death. She gulped and craned her neck to dare to see this stranger, wondering who he was to the Doctor while simultaneously wanting nothing to do with this.

A dark figure stood in the center of the main chamber, armored in black plates and rings, and swathed in a cloak that pooled around him like a remnant of midnight. He wore a helmet that served more like a grotesque mask, and he idly inspected the Doctor's work by turning his head slowly from side to side.

He spoke again but she couldn't hear it entirely. She slowly moved forward, tiptoeing to get a better idea of the conversation, dreading the approach as much as she craved learning answers.

"Results…diagrams complete…prototype to test…don't fail."

She crawled even closer.

"What paltry efforts are these? I told you to study the designs I left for you. Baron's engineer is close to completing his first model, I expect you to develop comparable results. Yet here you are wasting the resources I've permitted you to use, studying fluids and humors. How many creatures are you going to waste my time with before you work on worthwhile occupations."

"I'm working on the designs!" the Doctor cried out. "The interface matrix is difficult to decipher, but I have most of the parts prepared for construction!"

"Doctor," the other man threatened, "You had better keep your word. Leave the experiments to me. Remember, I have the power to strip you of everything if you fail."

"I won't fail. I won't," the Doctor sniveled.

"Good," the stranger growled, and left the room, swinging his enormous cape behind him.

The Doctor collapsed to the floor, a panicked expression on his face.

Girl stepped out, hesitantly at first, and then openly approached the Doctor.

"Who was that man?" she asked, breathless.

The Doctor didn't respond right away, but slowly shifted glassy eyes in her direction.

"Your fault! This is your fault! Whoever and whatever you are, you've set me back and the Master is displeased!"

"Who _is _he?" she insisted, more firm in her tone.

"He's the Master. _My _Master! And yours too for that matter!Now get out of my way!"

He stood and stomped into another lab, leaving her again to her own devices. She stared in the direction the stranger had gone, paralyzed with dread. This was the Master? This was whom the Doctor worked for?

"This is not good," she said aloud. "Not good at all."


	6. Chapter 6

This is totally making me think of Doctor Who again…lol…

Chapter Six

"Doctor. _Doctor!_" Girl called out to no reply. The Doctor had really meant it when he said he wanted to be left alone. He had sequestered himself in rooms she had yet to discover—his lab being much larger than she had first realized.

She was left with no answers yet again, and it worried more than bothered her. The man in dark armor had literally chilled the air with his presence. He couldn't be anything other than dangerous. Who was he? What was his agenda? And if the Doctor was working for him, just who was _she _working for? Didn't he have a name?

She'd spent two days looking for the Doctor—when she hadn't been sleeping or nursing wounds—and today she was certain she'd found him hammering away at something metal behind closed doors. She banged on the doors loudly.

"Who are you working for!" she shouted.

"Go away!" he yelled back.

"I can help you!" she baited.

"You're better staying out of my way!"

"Then give me something to do!"

There was a pause for a few minutes, and then a piece of parchment was slipped beneath the door. Girl picked it up and stared at it.

"You can't be serious," she muttered. "Why are you wasting both of our time!" she shouted again. "I could be helping you do something useful!"

There was another pause and suddenly the door slid open and the doctor's nose poked out. Girl took a quick step backwards.

"Just take that list and _get out_," he hissed, slamming the door shut again.

She stomped her foot and sighed. This was going nowhere. The list contained more creatures that he wanted her to capture, and with it, her spirits slumped.

"What good is this nonsense, if he's not even going to bother with them?" she wondered aloud.

She knew that everything of value was hidden behind locked doors, and that the Doctor was tying up a lot of power for his new project. Clearly the armored man was frustrated by the Doctor's animal collection, and she had no idea what _that _was for, either. Test subjects for what? The idea of going into the tower _again _had been happily dwelling as far from the front of her thoughts as possible for the past two days. After the last venture when she _became _something else, she'd determined that it had to have been a mistake. There was no way she could have become a mirror image of the creature that had pursued and almost killed her. Maybe it was her memory playing strange tricks on her again.

She looked at the list again, trying to make sense of the Doctor's scrawling hand. There were detailed descriptions of what each creature was, and what he wanted of them:

Snakeskin

Tail of Coeurl

Eye of Lamia

Humor of Basilisk

"What in the world is humor of Basilisk?" she muttered again.

She sighed and looked at her arms where the scratches from the cat-hunt were still healing. What she wouldn't give for some decent armor…If she was going to be forced back into the tower corridors, this time, she decided to prepare in advance before she started blundering off into unknown territory. It would be much easier now that the Doctor wasn't hounding her every step. She needed supplies. Bandages for herself, firstly, and she reasoned that cages would probably also be intelligent, and if she was going to be collecting fluids—containers. The problem was, she had just spent two days looking for the _Doctor _in his own lab, how long was it going to take her to hunt down phials, cages, and nets? The whole scope of the place was, in fact, quite astounding.

She stuffed the list into the belt in her trousers and set off looking for the Doctor's supplies. She'd crossed two rooms when she realized that it would probably be in her best interests to find food before anything else while the Doctor was preoccupied. Her meager collection of food was already almost gone, and she couldn't rely on him to remember to feed her. She found his food stores quickly enough, and lifted what she could. There was a little bread, cheese, and a few unripe fruits, that she hid in compartments fitted into the walls of the room where she normally slept, making sure that should the Doctor see fit to abandon her completely, she would have enough supplies to survive for a time.

After she had seen to that, she ventured further into the lab, passing machines and metal constructs. The mechanicals that the Doctor had refused to let her see, she now peered in upon with sly satisfaction. What she saw, though, left her more confused than before. Some of the machines looked almost like people, and parts were strewn about the floors and tables that bore a striking resemblance to arms and legs. She cringed and shut doors almost as quickly as she opened them, and kept on going. Gears and tools were scattered about tables and shelves and as she continued, she noticed metal equipment being replaced by glass jars. Things were floating in liquid—tissues, strange plants, and were those…eyes? Girl tried not to retch. What was he doing with these? Nevertheless, she was getting closer. He had to have more glass jars somewhere…

While she searched the lab, she kept in mind that if she found any of the Doctor's notes, she would do well to read as many of them as possible. She still wanted to find signs of a flying device or a means to escape if she could. _Someone _was bringing food to the tower, and it had to be arriving somehow. To her chagrin, she didn't find evidence of notes _or _a flying device. The Doctor might keep a messy house, but his notes were nowhere to be found, and she feared they might be stored entirely in his head.

She continued walking and entered another room. The lights were turned off, but it was warm and stuffy. She could hear metal rattling and clicks on tile. She felt uneasy and made an effort to find the switch that turned on the lights. She found the panel in the dark, and in sequence, lights filled the room, illuminating rows upon rows of cages. Only a few of them were occupied, one of them by the cat she'd captured earlier. It paced back and forth and growled at her. There were a few other creatures also, deformed, menacing things that tried to bite their ways through the bars. These weren't normal creatures, they were monsters. What were they all doing here? She decided she'd seen enough of these oddities and shut off the lights. Knowing, at least, where she could find cages.

She closed the door and quickly walked through the room with glass phials and jars again. She searched under tables, and pulled out drawers, looking for more phials, jars, and stoppers. She searched half of the room, but most of the jars were already filled. Dismayed, she yanked open a cabinet near the wall that she was expecting to contain nothing, and to her surprise, she found it was full of everything she needed, including several sacks of a strong woven material. She opened one of the sacks and stuffed it with phials, and cork stoppers. When she couldn't carry any more, she shut the cabinet and made the long return to her room, setting everything in order in a corner. She hoped the Doctor wouldn't mind that half of his items were missing, but it was he who'd told her to go out and collect things from the creatures in the tower.

Still…creature collecting was not what she wanted to be doing. It was the machines, the mechanicals, that she wanted to learn about. She wanted to know what was so important that the Doctor now devoted all his time to tinkering. Somehow she had to convince him to trust her. She needed to know the function of the machines in this place. It was a constant nagging thought, that there was something she needed to do wherever she had come from. There was something important that she had been in the middle of, and someone or something had stopped her from completing it. She'd been dreaming about it lately, but none of it made sense, and she woke every morning feeling that she needed to tell someone something. Being trapped in this place was beginning to drive her mad. It had been months already, and she hadn't been able to get more than maybe five levels down the tower in all that time.

Inexperience. Ignorance. Time. They were all against her. She was never getting home at this rate…

And yet…the Doctor's Master wanted him to complete a project, and if she could find out what the project was, she might be able to use that as leverage. The question was, how? She would have to do her best to convince him that she was a useful lab assistant and just _maybe _he would allow her to work on more important things, things that brought her closer to leaving the tower.

Until then, she was in a difficult situation. Without the Doctor, she had no means of escape; without his knowledge and his tolerance, she couldn't learn to escape on her own. She would need to become fiercely independent, able to survive among the monsters. She would have to become a creature of violence to achieve the necessary ends. Someone was waiting for her, she was sure of it. She had to go back some way or another. Not to mention, that every day more that she spent here, raised more questions about herself that she couldn't answer. Just what had happened to her the day she'd transformed herself into the mirror image of the feline monster that had pursued her? Was it some form of madness? Had it been some form of magic? If it was magic, how had she cast it? Could she do it again?

She lay back on her cold metal slab, staring up at the strange crystalline lights. At least tomorrow she had something to do. She sighed, turned over, and attempted to sleep, noting with loathing that she _still _hadn't gotten the promised blanket she'd asked for several weeks ago.

"Useless old man," she mumbled to herself, squinting her eyes shut.

……………………………..

The following day began with a bang. And not a small bang, but an explosion that shook the lab, and knocked Girl off of her slab. She hit the floor with an _oomph _and sat up, rubbing her head.

Wracked with confusion, she stumbled through the dark, and went looking for the Doctor. All the lights in the lab were flickering on and off, and smoke was billowing along the ceiling. She ran toward the room where she had last seen him, and found the door blasted ajar. The Doctor was cursing at the top of his lungs, and Girl saw him rushing back and forth across the room between sparks of light.

"What happened?" she asked, bewildered by the extent of the destruction.

"Stay back!" the Doctor howled. "There are still livewires on the loose!"

Girl surveyed more of the wreckage and noticed long metallic cables glimmering in the arcing room. She looked at the Doctor's rumpled form and furrowed her brow.

"You're bleeding!" she pointed out.

"What?" he asked, dabbing his head, and then observed, "Oh, right," as if it was nothing but a pesky fly.

"You should sit down," she suggested, still having no idea what he was doing.

"I'll sit when this is all taken care of," he whined.

The Doctor had just begun turning valves when a fire erupted from another corner of the cavernous room. The Doctor cursed again, and began kicking things while fire began to spread down the length of the room.

Girl watched the fire with a sense of rage she couldn't quite explain. And then she did something that felt as natural as breathing. She began to move her hands—forming shapes, forming symbols, aligning the movement with the flow of her thoughts. She made a final sign and released a tidal wave of water that rose halfway to the ceiling and crashed down upon the flames like a bucket doused over a small candle flame.

The fire was extinguished, but the Doctor was now staring at her like she was the latest specimen in his collection.

Girl didn't even know what had happened necessarily, her focus was so entirely wrapped up in the flames, that it took the Doctor shaking her, to realize what she'd done.

"What was that?" The Doctor insisted, hopping around her with wide eyes.

"I have no idea…" she murmured, staring at the dripping floor.

"That…that was magic!" the Doctor was saying, dancing on the tips of his toes. "You might not be useless to me after all!"

Girl broke out of her reverie and stared at him sharply. "First of all, what _happened?_"

"I calibrated the turbines incorrectly, the gears got stuck, and accidentally overloaded the skystone…"

"The what did what to the what?" Girl asked in frustration.

"Too much pressure," he continued. "Have to make sure to allow for more movement among the individual parts…"

"Is this the project that the Master wanted you to complete?"

"Oh yes, but I'll have to start over again. I wish the notes I had weren't secondhand from the engineer in Baron…I'd be able to make a working prototype much faster…"

Girl cast him another sideways glance. "Prototype of what, exactly?"

"That…I can't tell you."

"We're both stuck here, what difference does it make?"

He stuck up his nose and haughtily replied, "I never said you could _stay, _remember?"

She frowned at him anew. "This thing you've been working on…it's enormous."

The Doctor looked smug, and then began to chew on his bottom lip, obviously conflicted between duty and his divulgent nature. "There are plans in order," he began with a shrewd eye cast in her direction. "I didn't want to bother you with the unnecessarily distressing news."

"What news?"

"Baron is planning an attack on Eblan, your home country."

"An attack…on Eblan?"

"Yes," the Doctor continued. "I was in charge of building things that would protect this island."

"Why wouldn't you tell me this?"

"Because if you knew, you'd want to rush my work. I don't do my best work when rushed."

"So you sent me to finish your side projects to give yourself peace and quiet?"

"Exaactly," the Doctor drawled out.

Girl took the opportunity to make another proposition. "Obviously, doing this by yourself is going nowhere. Tell me exactly what to do and I will do it."

"I can't get you involved, this is too personal for you, and women are historically emotional and unbalanced."

Girl raised a brow and glared. "Emotional and unbalanced? Have you taken a good look at this room lately? Have you looked at yourself lately?"

"You'll do exactly as I say?"

"Exactly."

"Can you do magic like that again?"

"I have no idea."

The Doctor's expression darkened with disappointment. "Shame, shame," he pouted. "Do you at least know what a wrench is?"

"If you point it out to me, I do."

The Doctor set his mouth in a thin line.

"Help me clear this room," he said.

"Very well," she answered, walking past him and avoiding puddles of water and more of the arcing cables.

With her back to the Doctor, she allowed herself a private smile. She was finally getting through to him in a roundabout way…

The Doctor, with his back to her, also had a smile on his lips. _She's taken the bait_, he thought with malicious glee, then turned and saw her reaching for a piece of equipment.

"Don't touch that!" he screeched, racing toward her on spindly legs, and earning a reproachful look.

_Yes, _he assured himself, staring at the fierce looking dark haired girl. _She'll make an excellent test subject._

…………..………

A/N: Long time coming…I'll try to have more going on in the next chapter, which I have NO idea when I'll have posted. I have practically no time anymore, guys…I'm working myself to death in the hopes that I'll have enough money to survive the next school year *sigh* Such is life, I suppose…so, don't expect too many updates. I'll do what I can in the last month of break that I have, but no guarantees…

Thanks again for reading!

~myth


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This chapter deserved a preface. It has been almost a full two years since I've posted anything for this story. And woooo boy…oh dear. Please excuse me while I figure out where in the world I left off and try to pick up the pieces. If you notice the writing style suddenly and utterly changing, and if I don't remember what happened in the first six chapters…I literally have not looked at this in two years.

Chapter Seven

The repairs to the room had taken weeks. Girl had learned more in those weeks about the Doctor and his projects than she had in the months she'd been trapped in the tower altogether. It was hard, intricate work, but she was surprised to find him willing to involve her in the process. Before, he'd only deigned to allow her to touch the most simple materials, and now she was familiar with most of the nuts and bolts of his creation—if not its true function.

The repairs that they had managed were basic at best. Some parts were destroyed beyond hope, and the Doctor informed her with some perturbation that it would take several weeks, possibly months, before more supplies were brought to his lab. Where he was getting those supplies from, she'd given up on asking.

He had promised to help her find a way out of the tower, but that was only after this project had been completed. From the look of things, it was going to be some time before anything was accomplished at all. In the meantime, Girl employed herself in thinking of solutions on her own. There were already a few things she'd noticed by being allowed into this new workspace—the cavernous room with high arched columns. There were pipes that crisscrossed between the ceiling beams, funneling water to different parts of the tower like veins in a body.

_Water_.

She'd never felt its presence as much as she had in the last several weeks, ever since she'd commanded the element and doused the flames from the accident. She had used the water many times for washing and drinking, but she hadn't realized it arrived in the pipes that she saw now, and she hadn't been _so _keenly aware of it until now. The pipes gave her something to think about. The water had to come from somewhere…

The Doctor brought her back to the present with an all-too-familiar bossiness. "Bring a hammer over to this side and start making yourself useful. To think I made a bargain with such a lazy assistant," the Doctor sniveled impatiently.

Girl stopped looking at the ceiling and returned her attention to the job in front of her. The Doctor was half buried within another part of the machine he was repairing, holding out his hand on occasion for tools. She'd run out of things he'd permitted her to do hours ago and could now only stand idly at his side waiting until he required her.

When she had handed him the hammer he requested, she resumed looking around the room. There were still stains on the walls where the water she had summoned had washed soot and ash against them. She had been so busy the last few weeks that experimenting with this new power had gone to the bottom of her priorities, but not out of her thoughts. Her abilities were multiplying; slowly, but they were multiplying. So she had some skill with a blade, that much she'd figured out, and she could sense and summon water, but what had she done when she'd escaped being devoured by that "cat"?

She hadn't mentioned any of her abilities to the Doctor, and the Doctor hadn't asked, even though it was clear that he wanted to.

Instead, they buried themselves in work, hurriedly trying to reclaim order out of the chaos of the lab so that more of the serious work could commence.

"That's all for today," the Doctor wheezed, pulling himself out from under a large piece of metal plating. "I have to find the schematics before I can continue. I don't need you for that."

True, she was impatient for the machine to be finished, but she had also become bored now that most of the work could only be completed by the Doctor himself and she had no concept of the finished product. "Tomorrow, then," she answered, happily taking her leave.

She walked slowly out of the room, keeping track of the direction of the pipes, trying to predict where they would lead. The pipes gave her some hope. Maybe they connected to the mainland and she could follow them home…just maybe.

She returned to her slab which now had a blanket, rough though it was, and let her thoughts wander. She tried to empty her mind of everything else and focus on the flow of the water in the pipes above her in the ceiling. She couldn't actually see them, but she knew they were there, and ever since she had doused the flames after the explosion, she had sensed water around her everywhere. It was like a floodgate had opened in her mind and she was reunited with a sense she'd forgotten she had. Where was the water going…

The pipes ran to the east side of the room, along the far wall, and down a level. Girl walked over to the wall and laid a hand against it, still able to feel the water as it swept past. It was cold, swift, and flowing down farther and farther. She wanted to go with it, become a part of its stream, but the wall stood in her way as a physical barrier.

She opened her eyes, sighing. Now, about controlling water…she had been trying to make signs with her hands like she'd done before, but no matter how she moved her fingers, nothing happened, not even a single drop of water. She stared at her fingers as if they had betrayed her, wondering what else was necessary. She had begun to think that perhaps, how most of her abilities had surfaced, it required a certain element of danger. And so, for the past several days while the Doctor hadn't been paying attention, she had returned to parts of the lab she had previously explored and taken more supplies, phials, nets, and even dragged a few small cages with her to prepare for a foray back into the tower. She had also discovered most fortuitously where he kept healing salves and potions after insisting on curing him after he had received a head wound in the explosion. He had led her straight to his medicinal cabinet and now she had a healthy supply of potions and bandages as well.

Her room was beginning to look like a cluttered closet, but only from one side, because she kept most of her loot where the Doctor couldn't easily see it.

One of these days she was going to go exploring through the tower and find out if there were any ways to cross the chasm between here and the land. Where was the base? It had to hit land somewhere…

She let go of her extended senses, and sighed. She was tired of living in this place, on the uncomfortable glass-like surface of her slab, and the cold metal of everything around her. She longed for dirt that she barely remembered. The lights above her reminded her of the honeycombs of a beehive, another distant memory. There were _colors _and _smells _in the corners of her mind, and she ached for them again. Soon. Soon she was going to go exploring again. It had been almost half a year, she reckoned, time to get acquainted with some of the surroundings, and she had supplies to spare. She had a few of her memories back, if only she could figure out how to make whatever magical abilities she had work for her at her own choosing.

She jumped back onto her slab, laying down and trying to find a position that was bearable. She stared at her reflection in the wall's mirror wishing time moved faster, that the Doctor wasn't so secretive, and that she really knew what he was building. It was an irritating cycle of thoughts, leaving her anxious while she waited for sleep.

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The following day yielded more of the same tedium, and Girl soon found herself wanting to be anywhere but at the Doctor's side. Finally, by the middle of the day, she asked to be excused so she could attempt to map out the corridors. She had a few ideas she wanted to try. It might have been the result of some strange death wish, but she felt that _this _time she was going to remember.

The Doctor had seemed surprised when she asked to leave, but finally relented; bumbling off into some mountain of broken odds and ends. Blissfully, she was left to her own devices.

She couldn't explain what had come over her as she left the work room—she felt the urge to fight, to run amok in the tower. Perhaps it was the feeling of being caged that had driven her to this kind of madness. Maybe this was how it had started for the Doctor some long time past. All she knew was that she had to stay active, anything to keep up her motivation. She returned to her room briefly to stuff a sack with potions and salves, and retrieve her blade in its leather sheath.

Afterwards, she set off. Out of the familiar rooms and doors, and out again into the dark hallways that snaked up and down and around. She needed to find something that would jog her memory, a battle that would force her to access lost memory. Into the darkness she plunged, pausing to listen for signs of life. The sheath banged against her hip, comfortably situated.

"Come on," she muttered eagerly, hoping for something to challenge her.

Shadows shifted as lights blinked on at her passing and flickered off again as she pressed on. She knew this level fairly well, and knew that not far ahead there were three directions she could choose. The left hallway led to the stairway that led downwards into the territory of the cats; the center led to the power panel the Doctor had asked her to fix months ago; but the right? She had yet to explore that route, and determined, she set off in that direction. Maybe this path rose upwards?

Intrigued, she took off with a quicker step. She'd decided to put aside fear and rely on her resolve; but as darkness reigned for longer and longer stretches, her doubts began to return.

The hallway continued on, and she tried to push away her apprehension at the darkness. She began to take slower, more deliberate steps so that she could hear noises beyond her own footsteps. There was only a distant thrum of mechanicals.

_Where are they? _She wondered.

Stymied, she focused her thoughts instead on the presence of water. Water in pipes. Water flowing through the structure. It took her a few minutes, but eventually she was able to sense its presence, coming from a source several levels up. She began walking faster again, determined. Eventually she reached a staircase that led upwards. She climbed the stairs only to discover the door at the next landing was shut. It looked similar to those in the lab, doors that would slide. She gripped the depression in the door's surface and pulled hard. The door creaked open, whatever mechanism that had once allowed it to slide with ease having worn down. The room on the other side of the door was completely dark. Now this was ominous. Was there no power in this section of the tower?

She waited a moment, her eyes adjusting to the dark, and took a step past the door into this new maze of corridors. How she wished she could see in the dark. Even though she was fully standing in the corridor, the ceiling prisms hadn't reacted to her presence and turned on. She made herself very still and considered what to do. If she couldn't see, no amount of bravery in the world was going to save her from whatever was lurking in the dark.

She walked a few more feet into the room and stood at the edge of the light emitted from the staircase. She was about to return to the lab and try a different route, when the light began to shrink around her. Was the door closing? No, how could it without making a sound?

Instead, the light from the staircase had turned off automatically. She was now left in complete darkness. She couldn't help the panic that flooded her all of a sudden, nor could she dismiss the noises that were starting to rise up around her. The sounds of heavy feet. The deep breaths and grunts of…what?

Could they see her even though she couldn't see them? The thudding of feet became louder and closer. Girl became more aware that they were probably looking for what had caused the light to appear a few minutes earlier. Wouldn't she have done the same in their position?

Despite herself, she began to fidget her fingers not knowing what she was doing. Disappear, that's what she wanted to do. She wanted to blend in with the dark and not be found. She wanted to be invisible and invincible at the same time. All at once she felt an unusual strength fill her limbs and it seemed as though she was changing form. When she began to feel the sensation of skin prickling, like a strange second skin, somehow she knew what she had done.

The room was no longer dark, but a strange muted gray. She could see large shapes looming at the edges of a wide corridor that split into many directions. She was close to the ground and stood on four legs, just as she had one time previously when she'd come face to face with the feline creature in the lower halls. This time she _was _the feline, and she was prepared. In fact, she reveled in the cleverness of her disguise. It was comfortable, light, lean, and most of all, dangerous.

Her sharp eyes looked again on the creatures that surrounded her. For now they were benign, and they paid her little attention, but would they stay that way? They were enormous, humanoid in shape, and one carried in a meaty fist, a large wooden club. Girl watched them warily and waited until they decided this new open door was uninteresting, and began to walk away.

When the hallway was hers alone, she stood undecided. Go back the way she'd come and retreat to safety, or continue on and test the limits of her feline form to see just what she was capable of.

_Magic. _She was actually using _magic. _The thought thrilled her. How she had done it, she hadn't figured out, but she could probably do it again, if she needed to. That was a start, anyway.

She decided to continue her journey through the tower in an upwards fashion. At least in this form, she could see in the gloom of the unknown corridors. Otherwise, her human eyes would fail her.

There was a decided air of neglect in this section of the tower, like humanity hadn't dared to interfere with it in several ages. There was a more organic feel to the floor beneath her feet, a near consciousness…she padded silently across cracked tile and beneath sleeping lights to see what other oddities she could find. She detected the enormous imitations of men huddling in corners and in crannies in the walls, often engaged in some inane activity, for they ignored her completely. Perhaps they were familiar with the cats—or were they couerls—that made residence in halls several levels below. She didn't question it much, only relieved that she passed unmolested.

She chose a simple route, one that she could easily re-trace, and followed a long, winding flight of stairs up what seemed to be the tower's exterior wall. Her senses were still honed to the presence of water, and that sense guided her higher still in the tower.

As she reached the top landing of the stairs, the gray environment lightened to one of blinding white. Sun. _Sun! _Girl raced on her four legs up to the top of the stairs and stood transfixed in what seemed a junction of sorts. The tower's exterior had become a wide open skeleton, and the room that spanned the entire level was a maze of diagonally placed pillars. She stood stock still for a moment and then she heard water dripping. She wove in and out of the pillars, and kept one ear constantly honed to the water's sound. Near the center of the space, she halted and saw a strange structure.

The vapors in the air swirled around two large vents. Water sung to her like chimes, each droplet on the air a distinct note. She watched as the clouds entered the vents and condensed on the surface, funneling into a reservoir below. Clouds, she thought dismally. The tower was sustaining itself from the sky. There were no tunnels, bridges, or ducts for the water; there was only air and the chasm between her and the world.

She stood in this columnal space and tried to find some point of reference in the distance. Nothing looked familiar, but the green on the mountain slopes was brilliant in her feline eyes. What amazed her most was a slightly sulfuric tang in the air from the depths below. When it mixed with the air from the mountains, it caused the misty clouds.

The joy of fresh air was an odd blessing, mixed with the disappointment of not being able to find a way off the tower even after coming so far.

She wandered around aimlessly and noticed that there was a narrow walkway leading to another part of the tower. She stepped onto it and looked up. The height of the tower above her was dizzying. How tall _was _this tower?

She approached the closed door at the end of the walkway and pushed the button with a paw to open it. It didn't open, but that didn't bother her in the slightest. She flexed her paws and extended her claws. The seals of the doors were firm, but not impossible to breach. She pulled at the door until she felt her claws would come off, and finally the door slid open with a swoosh of air.

She stepped through gingerly, adjusting to yet another light change. The rush of air coming in from behind raised her fur against the grain, and she clenched her jaw in response.

This new part of the tower was dark but not impossible to see for her eyes.

There were many bends and twists and several creatures that slithered and slunk away.

She walked with purpose, feeling powerful in her disguise.

She'd always enjoyed taking the appearance of someone else, be it her friends or even, on occasion, their cherished pets. There was something deviously clever about that kind of acting and it was a wonderful prank if done correctly; at least until her father had scolded her—told her such a gift wasn't to be used in such a way.

Girl's steps faltered, her mind racing. Where had that memory come from? She could almost see faces and names and her mind spun faster.

_Why?_

Why was it that the farther she journeyed from the lab, the more she remembered? This had happened before, and almost predictably, she was the same distance away as before.

She quickened her pace. If it was true, if she just needed to climb higher, what else would she remember?

With eager steps she kept going, padded feet sprinting over a grated walkway. She had no way of realizing that what she'd stepped onto at the other end of the walkway was a teleportation device—until she'd been whisked away.

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Lugae paced back and forth in his personal quarters. He had found the schematics hours ago, but the construction of the machine was not what worried him. He could get the skystone to work easily enough, it was keeping the mad girl in his keeping at unawares that bothered him. He'd been given the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to study someone born into magic. The ninjas had some silly name for it that didn't suit it at all-ninjutsu—a magic that was different from other kinds. Theirs was not learned like the mages, but inherited. He would have been happier with a summoner, perhaps, but Girl was just fine for now.

Anyway, his source had assured him that _this _girl had gifts worth exploring, and he couldn't disagree.

Already, she'd unlocked some of her abilities, but her memories were also awakening and soon he feared she would realize who she was and what he was really building. He couldn't let that happen.

He'd had a chance to create many new and terrible things for Golbez's army but what if the ninjas could be turned? What if he could find a weakness in their magic—find a way to bend them into fiends? They were, after all, a half-step between humans and fiends anyway with their in-born talents.

"Your progress is slow," a low feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.

Lugae jumped, dropping the schematics, and spun to face a vision of menace, beauty, and luxurious golden hair.

"Barbarricia," he squawked out.

The Archfiends were wonderful creations. Golbez's generals for the war to come. Here in his presence, the Archfiend of Air was singularly exotic. She wasn't beautiful in the sense of mortal women, but like some wild beast. Untamed, unpredictable-terrifying. It was rare for one of the Archfiends to seek him out directly, and this visit raised the hair on his arms.

Barbarriccia narrowed cat-like eyes and strode languidly forward. She cupped his chin in her hand and a jolt ran through his body.

"Our master is not pleased," she hissed, looking down at him.

"I've been working—I have!" he stammered.

She stared at him intently, irises like daggers, then finally pulled away.

"I saw the machine," she said, walking toward the door. "It was in pieces."

"The skystone overloaded. I can make repairs and solve the problem once I acquire a new skystone," he assured her.

"Another skystone?" she snapped, affording him a glance over her shoulder. "How many must we procure for you before you produce results?"

"I'm only one person!" he retorted shrilly.

The Fiend's mouth curved into a smile as she tilted her head back, like she was taking the scent of something. After a moment, her curved fangs showed past her lips.

"Only one person?" she inquired. "Curious, I thought I smelled another human here."

Lugae became flustered. "Test subject."

"Test subject?" Barbariccia asked with a crooked brow. "And where is that test subject now?"

"How should I know!" he spat. "I prefer she keeps herself entertained until I can find time to deal with her."

"She?" the Fiend teased. "And how would she do that? Wandering the tower halls?"

Lugae sensed a trap in the Fiend's words. "She gathers things for me."

Barbariccia mused. "And what happens when she finds one of the tower's buttresses that go into the mountains? What if she escapes?"

"She'd never be able to figure out how to reach one of them, and if she did, there's nothing on the other side but sheer cliffs."

"Has she seen the machine?"

Lugae paused. "Only pieces of it," he answered carefully.

"Golbez does not have time for failure or foolery. This girl is a danger to us. If she escapes, she could spread word of us and endanger all we've worked for."

"Her memory has been altered," Lugae said proudly. "She probably wouldn't remember a thing."

"Probably is not a guarantee. She must be dealt with. Where has she gone?"

"I couldn't even tell you," Lugae answered, feeling defeated, and not pleased at the prospect of having to find another test subject after he'd spent so much time getting used to this one.

The Archfiend suddenly made a face, contorted with dislike, and Lugae worried she might release her anger upon him.

"Someone has just passed my wards," she snarled, turning accusing eyes on him. "This is what happens when you let one of your pets explore with impunity," she snapped.

"But your lair is in the upper reaches!" he protested. "It's impossible for her to have traveled that far and survived!"

"Apparently not!" the Fiend of Wind growled, twirling herself into a frenzy of wind that upset the order of everything in the room.

Lugae adjusted his skewed spectacles and stared at the empty space where the Fiend had just been.

"The upper reaches!" he hooted to himself.

The Girl had proven herself far more interesting once again. It would be a shame for Barbariccia to kill her, now that she'd shown so much promise. He found himself secretly wishing the girl had enough gumption to survive. He wanted the chance to find out just what else was she capable of.

A/N:

Upon pulling this out of the "hiatus" folder, I've noticed that there are sections that need some heavy editing…and sections that just became too ridiculously redundant I wanted to cry. It might just be me noticing these things, but I started this chapter off and thought…I feel like I've started another chapter in exactly the same way…

To balance this, I decided to mix things up a little towards the middle. It was getting too stale, needed a little more paprika…or Barbariccia.

This story won't be nearly as in-depth as the other long novelizations, and I will be liberally skipping some time in between chapters, not the day-to-day-to-day.

Next chapter will have some more drama in it…and possibly explosions.

Also, I do have a two page outline for this whole thing so…there is a plan, I promise!

Thanks for those of you who endured the long wait. I'll try not to disappoint you with too many more long waits as I go about wrapping this thing up.

~Myth


	8. Chapter 8

Oh, pronouns…

During the writing of this chapter I suddenly realized that it would be helpful to know something about the construction of ships…and it has proved somewhat problematic ever since.

Chapter Eight

The effects of the teleportation device were strange, and Girl was deposited at its other end in a state of complete bewilderment. The device's magic fled her body and nerves like an electrical charge, and hesitantly, she walked into the new environment she'd been whisked off to.

The place was strange—lit by windows and balconies and the wind howled through it like a living thing. She walked gingerly into the room's center, staring at the high ceiling with apprehension. Where on earth was she?

And then she began to hear unsettling noises from the darker corners of the room. Snarls and meowling, and the unmistakeable click-clacking of claws on tile.

Girl felt adrenaline rush to her limbs, her body ready to make a dash. She held her ground, assuming incorrectly, that the coeurls surrounding her would be as accepting of her as the others on the lower levels. Within minutes she was surrounded; but these coeurls seemed to regard her as an intruder, not a member of their harem.

They circled around her, fangs bared and snarling.

Six against one—the odds were definitely not in her favor.

And then she felt herself change. Her senses dulled, her claws turned to fingernails and her limbs returned to their usual length and appearance. She was a human again.

She uttered a curse and stood to her full height, perceiving where all her foes were standing, and making quick calculations in her head. Calculations that had become routine in some deep part of her consciousness. She had her dagger in hand and sprang forward.

If time could stand still, she would have sworn that it did. With the gracefulness of a dancer, she dove between two of the coeurls, slicing an arc on her way and leaving one of the coeurls bleeding on the floor, unable to stand. She ducked and wove, slashing and stabbing as the coeurls attacked. She was quick, but so were they, and she suffered several claws in her flesh and slashes in her clothing from her own poor defense. One coeurl stabbed her leg with one of its whip-like whiskers and she screamed with pain. The sound only seemed to drive the beasts to further frenzy, and she dizzily tried to fend them off as numbness spread down her leg.

As the seconds turned to minutes she knew she was going to lose. There were still four coeurls standing and she was tiring quickly.

They were about to close in on her when the coeurls suddenly stopped in their tracks and turned to look behind them, ears erect. Something else had entered the room and whatever it was, they had no desire to encounter it. A mighty wind swept across the room and made them scatter in all directions like spooked house-cats. Girl's dark hair blew across her face, and she swiped hanks of it away from her eyes as she limped backwards.

Concerned by the coeurls' aversion to the intruder, Girl took a moment to crawl behind a nearby pillar and stay out of sight from whatever was entering from the opposite side of the room. As she waited, the wind picked up in dervishes and the temperature dropped so quickly that goosebumps raised on her arms.

She held on to her knees and bent her head, trying to make herself as small as possible. And then she heard footstep—only two feet—but the clicking of claws on tile made Girl wonder what manner of creature it was that had scared the coeurls away from their near-kill. The feet walked a ways in each direction of the room and Girl hoped that she would remain unnoticed. When the footsteps began to approach her hiding place, Girl raised her head, her ears tuned to the sound of her pursuer. Too close. They were getting too close. She began to climb slowly to her feet, but only managed to half-stand when a powerful hand with claws for nails grabbed the back of her neck and threw her backwards.

The force of the throw startled her and she hit the floor hard enough to have the wind knocked out of her. She gasped for air, but her inhalation ended in a squeek as another hand pinned her head to the floor, choking her.

She grappled with the hand that held her pinned, and cracked her eyes open to look upon her attacker. A woman with cat-like amber eyes stood above her. Her golden hair raged behind her like long grass in a wind storm, and she had all the fierceness of something wild and untamed.

Without thinking, Girl began to fidget with her right hand. She was desperate for air, desperate to fill her lungs, and her chest burned furiously. Somewhere deep in her mind she knew what she needed to do. She focused the magic in her spirit on her right hand, the same hand forming signs—signs that channeled her magic into what she desired. She was summoning water to her palm—a great crushing force of water to be delivered in a single blow with her fist.

She gathered her magic and then swung at the Fiend's arm. Her own strength would have been ineffective, but with the strength and force of a waterfall behind it, the blow buckled the Fiend's grip and forced her to retract her arm, hissing.

Girl took her chance, and gulped in air. The lightheadedness was hard to overcome, but she forced her legs to push her away and upwards. She wobbled to standing, her wounded leg threatening to buckle.

She faced the Fiend and the Fiend faced her, pacing in sideways steps, as she took in Girl's measure.

"Who—who are you?" Girl gasped.

"DO NOT SPEAK," the Fiend snarled back at her, fangs bared. "How _dare _you speak to one of the great Archfiends. Intruder, who are _you_ and how did you find your way here?"

Girl hesitated, unable to find words, and the Fiend suddenly sped forward, propelled by an unearthly wind, gripped her hair, and threw her back to the ground on her knees. The jolt flew up Girl's legs to her teeth and it rattled her thoughts.

"You will answer when one of the Archfiends asks you a question, human!"

"I am no one," Girl answered feebly.

"Liar!" the Fiend screamed at her. "A no one does not cast magic such as yours. Who are you!"

"I—I work for the Doctor!" Girl offered, hoping that explanation was enough.

The fiend gripped her hair again and lifted her off the ground until they were face to face. Tears welled up in Girl's eyes from pain as she squinted at the fiend who was smiling at her with menace.

"So you're the one," the Fiend mused and then dropped Girl back to the floor. "I knew I smelled another human in his domain. And a 'no one' at that. How interesting," the Fiend continued, pacing back and forth.

Girl was feeling trapped and helpless. And desperate. She searched for water around her, searching for a source and found it. She called to it, focusing all her thoughts to the water and beckoning for it to heed her. And then she focused her anger—all of her frustrations. She felt the water above her in pipes begin to reverse course and seethe at the walls of their containment. While the fiend paced, Girl demanded more of the water and fed it all of her desperation.

It answered in an explosion of metal, bursting from its pipes and cascading from the ceiling like a curtain of daggers. The attack took the Fiend by surprise and she jumped back, surrounding herself with wind. The water penetrated some of Fiend's shield and continued to rage like a living thing in mid-air. Girl, amazed that her ploy had worked, felt the water asking for further instruction. Charged with her magic she felt that she could ask it to do anything. She stood and began to move her arms into forms—some simple, some complex. The water moved in accordance with her arms, pummeling and beating at the Fiend's magic until the screen of wind that protected her was gone. The fiend danced and wove away from the water, but just barely.

And then Girl felt it, the strain of too much magic used all at once. Her body was beginning to be sapped of energy as her spell looked for more fuel to sustain itself. Girl released the water, waves splashing uselessly over the tiles and dripping away, while her arms sagged with exhaustion. She sank to the floor unable to do anything more.

The Fiend kept her distance and stared at Girl with an approving look on her face.

"Very interesting," the fiend said silkily. "Welcome to the tower, little sister," she greeted coldly, and then charged forward and slammed the palm of her hand against Girl's head so hard that Girl was instantly senseless.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The next thing Girl knew, she was waking up again in the doctor's lab.

Her head throbbed, so did her leg, and then everything else. She tried to sit up but couldn't, groaning. What had happened? She tried to remember how she had gotten injured in the first place, but her memories ended just before she'd last left the Doctor's lab. She had been so determined when she'd set out—to figure out what she was capable of. Had she failed so miserably?

"Awake at last?" she heard the Doctor ask at her right.

She turned to look at him dazedly, not realizing he'd been there. He was standing close to her slab, hands in the pockets of his dingy lab coat. His scraggly white hair was standing more on end than usual and his beady eyes were practically bugging out of his head.

"What happened?" she asked tiredly.

"You went into the tower to procure something for me, but you went far and got lost," he supplied nervously. "You were injured trying to find your way back. It was a lucky thing you managed to crawl back as close to the lab as you did or I wouldn't have found you."

Girl narrowed her eyes and turned away, thinking. Attacked. She was lost? She didn't remember any of it.

"You should sleep," the doctor informed her. "You'll need your strength for when you help me fix the rest of the machine. Or are we going back on our arrangement?"

This information brought her back to the present, and her determination to escape surged to the surface. "Fix the machine? You have all the necessary parts?"

"Yes, and the schematics."

Girl looked at him in a daze. "Good. The sooner it gets fixed…" she began and then trailed off as exhaustion won out and sleep claimed her once more.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The Doctor left Girl to sleep and returned to his own quarters. Barbariccia was waiting for him, arms folded.

"She remembers nothing," Lugae announced.

The fiend nodded with a sly smile, golden hair bobbing of its own accord. "After what I did, it's a wonder she remembers who _you_ are," she purred with satisfaction.

"I thought you were going to kill the girl," the Doctor pointed out; pleased but confused.

The fiend's eyes took on a steely cast and she pursed her lips. "The girl possesses magic the likes of which I've never seen. She could be the key to undoing the ninja of Eblan that Golbez has been searching for. Learn their secrets and then turn their own magic against them, I like it."

"Many ninja possess magic like hers," Lugae protested. "You really think _she _could reveal the answers Golbez wants?"

"Most of the ninja possess minor talents at best," Barbariccia answered with her nose in the air. "The girl has a gift. Answer me this, though; how have you convinced her to help you?"

"She believes her cooperation will be rewarded with freedom. She works because she believes I'll help her find a way to escape."

The Fiend smiled evilly. "Conniving little man," she approved. "And she doesn't know what it is you're working on?"

"She has only seen it in pieces, never the master plan."

"She's helping you build an airship, the perfect vessel for her escape, and she'll never be able use it," Barbariccia mused, and then laughed coldly. "That's the most delectable thing I've heard all day."

"How will I keep her unaware once it nears completion?" Lugae simpered.

Barbariccia gave him a measured look. "You? You think you'll be able to complete this project after all? Doctor, I'm _impressed._"

"I told you, all I needed was a new skystone," he complained. "I've found out what went wrong with the last one."

The Fiend's expression turned serious "If she asks questions, continue to mislead her. When the time comes _I _will intervene. Until then, make sure she doesn't escape."

Lugae nodded vehemently. "Of course. You have my word. She won't be going anywhere."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was weeks before Girl felt well enough to be on her feet. She had taken several of the doctor's potions and her wounds were closing satisfactorily, but her thoughts were constantly askew. Dreams plagued her from sleeping to wakefulness. Images of a woman with copper hair walking away haunted her dreams like so many nights before, but now every time she tried to see the woman's face, the face that greeted her became that of a woman with golden hair and amber cat-like eyes. Girl woke every morning in a sweat, with her heart racing, and feeling that she should have her weapon in hand.

Her last conversation with the Doctor also left her with questions. He's said she had gone to do errands for him. She knew that to be a lie, so what had actually happened to her? She had the kaleidoscope of dreams that plagued her every night, but she couldn't figure out the order to which they belonged. There was some important discovery she had made, but it was just beyond her reach. She wanted to grasp it so badly, but couldn't.

Disappointed with her faulty memory, she hoped that the tedium of working with the Doctor might bring her some measure of focus. At least help to soothe her boredom.

When she finally returned to the workshop, she found the doctor poring over the schematics for the machine. Intrigued, she joined him and read over his shoulder. The schematics were complicated and hard to understand, and all she saw were parts and pieces.

When she looked up at the rest of the room, she saw several large wooden beams and metal clamps scattered across the floor. How they had gotten into the lab was another of those insufferable mysteries so common to her day –to-day life. She eyed the Doctor suspiciously.

Sensing her regard, he looked back at her, equally suspicious.

"Do you remember any of your adventure?" he asked, sounding a little anxious as he readjusted his spectacles.

She shook her head. Truthfully, it annoyed her that she couldn't remember the events of the past few weeks. She knew her version of events and the Doctor's didn't line up; and the fact that he had asked twice for confirmation of her amnesia, signaled to her that he knew something she didn't.

"Are you able to do any work or will you be a useless sack of bones?" the Doctor then asked.

She glanced around the room at all of the materials and then looked back at the Doctor. "Doing what, exactly?"

"These beams need to be formed to match the schematics."

"How do you 'form' wooden beams?" she asked, mystified.

The Doctor eyed her speculatively. "Do you still not remember how to cast your magic?"

Girl took his meaning right away. "You need water," she mused.

"These beams need to be soaked and then clamped," he confirmed.

Her eyes widened. "You can bend beams that large with only water?" she asked.

"Water and pressure," he answered.

She looked again at the number of beams on the floor of the large workshop and felt her spirits sink. There were so many beams and each looked to weigh more than she could possibly hope to carry.

"How—" she began, completely daunted. "How do we even go about doing that?"

"We start small," the Doctor started saying, walking toward the piles of lumber.

"How small?" she asked, dubious.

"We'll have to build a vat for the water. That will be your task."

"Mine?"

"Build the vat, make sure it doesn't leak, and then fill it with water. I'll take care of the rest."

Girl took in the scope of the room and the length of the beams. "Just how long does this vat need to be?" she asked.

"Do you see how long these beams are?" the Doctor asked. When she nodded he added, "Longer than these."

Days passed in aggravation, as Girl sat atop piles of lumber, staring at the pages of schematics the Doctor had allowed her to keep. The Doctor had abandoned her to work on other portions of the project while she was left with the heavy lifting. In between trying to read the schematics and trying to figure out how to build a vat, she wondered what it was she had been trying to find in the hallways that had led to her being attacked. She remembered finding an abandoned corridor, something about coeurls, but she could still sense there were gaping holes in the details, and the face of the woman with cat-like eyes….

"I don't see any progress!" the Doctor complained at her, poking his head out of one of the workshop's side doors.

She glared at him. "How do you expect me to move any of these beams without any help?" she demanded. "I'm only one person and I can only lift so much!"

The Doctor vanished from the doorway, only to reappear several minutes later with a small horde of mobile metal mechanicals in tow. Girl jumped down from atop her perch and eyed the mechanicals and the Doctor warily. 'What are those?" she asked.

"For the heavy lifting," he explained, and then directed his voice to the bots on the floor. "Drones, locate thirty foot by one foot timber and relocate to ten feet north perpendicular to east wall."

The 'drones' didn't move for a minute as they processed this new command and then began to scurry toward the timbers, inspecting each beam until they found one they deemed the appropriate length and size. With their small mechanical arms, the eight of them arranged themselves along the length of the beam and lifted it off of the ground. Girl stood back and watched as they inched backwards, carrying the beam with them before setting it down ten feet away.

"Huh," she remarked, admiring the handiwork of the drones.

"Will these do?" he asked, wringing his hands together anxiously.

Girl nodded absently. "I think they'll do nicely," she assured him.

"Good, good," the Doctor mumbled to himself and then sauntered away without another word.

Girl watched his retreating form with an eyebrow raised and then looked at the drones on the floor "looking" at her with their mechanical eye stalks.

"Uh…" she said stupidly, completely aware that she had no idea how to order the drones to do her bidding.

"Command-'uh'-not-recognized," one of the drones squawked at her.

Girl's expression fell as she tried to remember how the Doctor had given the last order. "Drones, find beam 'this' size and move over here so beams are end to end," she ordered feebly, using hand gestures in an attempt to communicate.

The drones buzzed while they processed her command and then started moving in all directions, inspecting every beam of wood they could find. Each drone picked its own beam and began to push in all directions. The confusion led to Girl having to leap over beams that swung in wide arcs toward her legs, and flinching when other beams smashed into the walls of the workshop with sounds mimicking thunderclaps.

Girl watched the drones with dismay. "Stop!" she shouted, but the drones didn't heed her.

"Drones, stop!' she tried again. This time they obeyed, swiveling on their mechanical feet to look at her through their eye stalks.

She hung her head, discouraged. "Drones, stay," she ordered, walking out of the workshop in a state of defeat. The Doctor had meant to give her help, but instead, he'd given her another challenge, and her headache had returned. She'd figure this mess out in the morning.

She had just stepped through the workshop doors when she perceived someone's eyes on her. She stopped in her tracks and looked up. Girl's heart instantly hammered in her chest, but she stilled it with a few deep, controlled breaths. In front of her, with head tilted appraisingly, stood the golden haired woman with the cat-like eyes.

"You must be the Doctor's assistant," the unknown woman said with a sneer, looking into the room behind Girl with an unimpressed glance. "Seems you have a lot of work to do," she wryly observed, brushing past Girl without so much as a by-your-leave. Girl was so stunned to have encountered the woman from her nightmares, that she couldn't force her feet to move. "You may call me Barbariccia," the woman called over her shoulder in a sing-song. "Looks like we will be seeing a lot of each other from now on."

Girl hesitantly turned and watched as Barbariccia disappeared around the workshop wall. Her blood had gone cold, as pieces of the puzzle began to snick together in her mind. _Elemental Archfiend_. The word came unbidden through her thoughts. What was she doing here? Why hadn't she attacked? What business did she have with the Doctor?

Girl finally pried her feet from where they'd rooted to the floor and peered through the workshop doorway. Barbariccia was walking toward the Doctor's personal work-space, strides long and graceful.

Coeurls, water, and an _explosion_. Girl pinched the bridge of her nose, memories rushing back. Despite Barbariccia's present demeanor, Girl was utterly convinced that the Fiend was her enemy. Why was she pretending to be an ally?

_They think you won't remember, _she realized.

She'd known for a while that the Doctor had been hiding things from her, playing some sort of game, but this was a new move on his part. This was bold, blatant—and downright insulting. He had told her many times to stay out of sight, to remain unnoticed. Why would he be so insistent of her invisibility if he allowed an Archfiend to encroach on their territory without the slightest of warnings? Girl's mind raced. The tables were turning. She wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but she was finding herself several steps behind. The Doctor had kept her out of his workspace, out of his projects, and now he had invited her to work directly with schematics. Her role had changed, and now there was another interested party. What exactly were they hoping she wouldn't find out, that they would go to such lengths to alter her memory?

_Pretend you don't remember, play along, _she convinced herself. If she let on that she knew what they were planning, they would eliminate her. Barbariccia had already tried, but clearly they had some use for her or she wouldn't still be here, still playing their game.

Girl nervously returned to her "room", but not to sleep. There would be no sleeping with an Archfiend underfoot. She could only think and strategize. Her life had just become more complicated with another player on the board and she had never been particularly good at winning…or lying. She sat atop her slab, clutching her knees in an attempt to keep her hands from shaking. First the man in black armor, then her dawning magic, and now an Archfiend. If there truly was a war coming—who was it between? She had worried before over who it was she was really working for by agreeing to help the Doctor. But he had never threatened her life, and he had convinced her that his creations were for the benefit of her people in the coming war.

She was left with a few thoughts. Either the Doctor was lying to her entirely, that he was her enemy and therefore an enemy to her kingdom; or the war was being fought by her people against someone else—Baron?—and it was her own people who had hired the Doctor to make creations that would aide their efforts. The notion of Eblan, her supposed kingdom of origin, was hazy at best, but hazier still were the other nations in the world. She could grasp the concepts and eccentricities of the tower, but beyond that, she was truly in the dark. Even so, she found it hard to believe that her own people would agree to work with the man in black armor, or even with an Archfiend, and so came to the conclusion that perhaps the Doctor's creations weren't as noble as he claimed. Which led her to another gut wrenching conclusion:

Had she found herself on the wrong side?

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A/N: Sick AGAIN. Ugh! I feel like all of my updates this year have been a catalogue of all my illnesses…

Anyway…it's quite difficult to write cat and mouse, I've found. I don't feel like this chapter is as polished as it could have been, but…it's still an update. For those of you following and you haven't quite been sold yet, this chapter was another transition, but things ARE starting to warm up from here on out, I promise.

The brief mention of the woman with copper hair is in reference to a few chapters back. Yes, that person will be revealed eventually :)

It's also been pointed out to me that my italics run into the following punctuation or sentences. There are supposed to be spaces between the words. If there aren't, I blame the site.

Thanks for reading! Hope everyone's having a good start to November!

~myth


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 19 of WoTC took ages upon ages…so this got pushed back as well. Dear friends…I wrote myself into one big hot mess and have spent the better part of a month trying to get myself out of it. Although, at this rate, I'm getting dangerously close to pulling a montage.

It's also extremely sad that I had to quite literally unplug my speakers, and make sure my internet wasn't connected so that I had no distractions while I worked on this. My ADD is a powerful force, lol.

I hate airships. They require too much research. Basically, after several failed wiki ventures, I'm falling back on what I recall of certain art installation pieces and the fact that dry wood doesn't bend, it breaks, but wet wood or green wood will bend to a certain degree, depending on what kind of wood it is. The arced portion of a ship's galley? I'm going with that explanation and totally winging it as I go.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Chapter Nine

Girl discovered sleep to be impossible. She "awoke" the next morning curled in a ball, knees against her chest and head bent down. Her headache still raged behind her eyes and when she finally stretched her legs, she discovered muscles and joints sore from a night of bad posture.

She sat up, allowing her legs to dangle over the edge of her slab, and stared at the floor for a few minutes. Her nightmares had become reality, and she hadn't the slightest idea what to do about it. Pretend? Merely return to work as if nothing strange had happened? She slid off of her slab to standing and groaned. It was going to be a long and frustrating day.

"There you are," she heard the Doctor's voice call from the doorway. She looked up at him balefully, not pleased to hear his grating voice so soon upon waking. "What happened in the workshop—I thought those drones would help you get the work done faster, not worse?" he asked, an annoyed expression on his withered face.

"I don't know how to command them," she complained.

The Doctor made a strangled sound and retreated from the doorway only to return a minute later. "Oh, and there's someone you should meet," he added before disappearing again.

Girl's heart began to race, instantly awake.

"Barbariccia," she murmured, slowly following after the Doctor.

She stepped into the workshop with hesitant footfalls, anticipating trouble.

Barbariccia stood in the center of the room, inspecting the work the drones had done the day before with her hands upon her hips. Her back was turned toward Girl, golden hair reaching down to the floor. She wore very little, Girl noticed, taking the moment to size up her enemy. And her skin was pale but had a certain sheen to it, almost like that of a snake's skin.

The Fiend turned slowly, seeing Girl out of the corner of her eye. The woman was nearly two feet taller than Girl and every sinew on her body spoke of her capacity for violence. She was truly a terrifying thing to behold. Girl felt her posture go rigid and her breathing constrict as she forced herself to walk forward, reminding herself that she was supposed to feign ignorance.

Barbariccia startled her by widening her cruel lips into a welcoming smile. "My, my, Doctor, it seems you've scared the little one into thinking all outsiders are dangerous," she said, giving the Doctor a sideways glance where he was standing halfway across the room.

The Doctor cleared his throat in an irritated sort of way. "Girl, this is Barbariccia. She will be here now and again to observe our progress and to help with the project."

Girl's gaze went from the Doctor to Barbariccia. Barbariccia was studying her closely, expectantly. Girl had the impression that the Fiend was searching for a weakness. She chose to play along, easing her expression. "Have you known the Doctor long?" she asked lamely.

"For some time, yes," the fiend replied.

"Why is it you've never visited before?"

"My duties take me many places, and seldom any one place for long. You haven't been here long yourself, have you?" the fiend asked.

Girl shrugged. "I found myself here a few months ago. He insisted I make myself invisible, so forgive me if I'm surprised to see someone here other than him or myself."

"Living in solitude can be strange, can't it?" Barbariccia mused, and then turned away again, walking between the drones where Girl had ordered them to stop the day before. "But solitude can put a significant damper on progress when there's no one around to do the heavy lifting, isn't that right, Doctor?" she added airily, sparing the Doctor a long look.

Lugae glanced nervously at Barbariccia and then at Girl. "The drones are your responsibility," he informed her with an uncharacteristic note of authority in his tone. "I expect this vat to be built by the end of two weeks."

Girl raised both brows. "Two weeks!" she exclaimed; outraged and a little panicked. "How can I possibly-?"

"That's why I'm here," Barbariccia informed her. "To make sure work stays on its scheduled course."

"There's a schedule?" Girl asked suspiciously.

"Always," Barbariccia answered shrewdly, apathetically eyeing the lumber lying askew across the room. "And by the looks of things, you have your work cut out for you."

"You said that yesterday," Girl grumbled to herself.

"Alright, then. Impress me," Barbariccia stated, turning around.

Girl gritted her teeth. "What—now?"

"Why else are you here if not to help the Doctor?" Barbariccia asked casually. "If you serve no purpose, there's no point in you being here—is there?" she asked with a cold bite at the end that Girl caught only by virtue of her previous experience with the fiend.

Girl strode forward, keeping her distance from Barbariccia. The drones stood exactly where she had left them, but she hadn't yet figured out how to direct them.

"Drones, move right beam to the left four feet," Girl instructed.

The drones buzzed, but instead of moving the beam at _her _right, they moved whichever beam was closest to _their _right and moved each beam to the left four feet.

"Hmm," she heard Barbariccia murmur behind her. "Pitiful. If there's one thing you learn about the machines in this tower, it's that they only listen to very specific directions. Observe," the fiend instructed. "Drones, find beam closest to east wall, reposition to abut with first laid beam."

The drones buzzed to life, thinking through this new command, and then rushed to work. They did in minutes, what Girl had spent hours the day before trying to achieve. She glared at the drones as if they had betrayed her and then looked jealously at Barbariccia.

"Simple," the fiend remarked at her.

"It's a completely different language," Girl pointed out.

"Learn quickly," Barbariccia suggested. "Try again."

Girl disliked being rushed, especially by someone she knew to be of nefarious intentions. Why were they running her through her paces so vigorously?

"Who exactly are you?" she asked Barbariccia after several hours of failed experimentation with the drones and the fiend's uncanny stare boring into her back. "You're not human."

"Me? I'm a creature of magic, a spirit of wind."

Girl's stare intensified. That wasn't all, she knew. Barbariccia had all but admitted her allegiance the day she'd attacked Girl on the upper floors. She'd said she was an "archfiend", whatever that was. But how could a fiend now claim to be working to help her people?

A fiend wouldn't, she reminded herself, and she would pick apart their lies layer by layer until she came to the truth.

"A spirit of wind," Girl repeated thoughtfully. "Sounds exotic."

The fiend tried to smile in a reassuring way, but it came across as more of a sneer. "You have no idea."

Girl could only nod to that, and ponder what the fiend really meant. Barbarricia was playing games with her, that much she knew. In the meantime, she had decided to give each of the drones names while she practiced ways to get them to do her bidding. It helped keep her distracted from the things she'd rather not think about—and it annoyed the Fiend, though Barbarricia tried hard not to let it show. There was Buzzard, Cat, Wrench, Zero, Cage, Snake, You, and the last, she named Niira*-Girl was pleased by her own cleverness and it made her smile to see Barbarricia's scowl.

"Now that you've indulged yourself by giving the machines names, why don't you have them do something useful?" Barbariccia asked snidely.

It had been three hours since the fiend's demonstration, and Girl hadn't been able to duplicate the same results since.

"Drones, locate southernmost beam, reposition—would you say that's fifteen feet?—" Girl added as an aside to Barbariccia, "to fifteen feet north, connected to previously laid beam."

The drones responded within minutes, doing precisely as Girl had commanded them, and strangely, doing exactly as she desired.

Barbarricia clapped slowly. "Oh, very good. At last, you've proven yourself a worthy assistant."

Girl cast a glare at the fiend, wondering when_ she_ was going to make herself useful. As if Barbarricia could read her thoughts, the fiend suddenly pushed herself away from the pile of wood and metal she'd been leaning against.

"If you'll excuse me," the woman said, walking away from her at a languid pace.

Girl watched her leave with an eyebrow arched, and took note of which room she'd gone into. Barbarricia was going to speak to the Doctor, and Girl wished she could be a fly on the wall. What were they talking about? What plans were they hatching? She was considering where to position herself in the room to overhear their conversation, but much to her disappointment, the door to his lab snicked shut. Girl sighed, annoyed at the lost opportunity and returned her attention to her team of misfit machines. Why was so much of her life a waiting game?

Hours turned into days, and days turned into a week. Under the watchful eyes of Barbarricia, Girl hadn't been able to do anything other than sleep and toil on her present project until there was a passable foundation laid for what would later become the vat.

Girl couldn't help but feel that it wasn't the job that Barbarricia had been sent to observe, but herself.

"What exactly does a Spirit of Wind do?" Girl asked one afternoon, while she helped straighten one of the newly laid beams.

Barbarricia frowned, just as she always did when she perceived she was being asked too many questions. "I guide and direct the winds," the fiend answered. "I listen for secrets and whispered plans."

"Oh," Girl replied, feigning to be fascinated by this response.

Barbarricia could see that she wasn't entirely impressed, and she sneered. "What exactly does a ninja do?" she asked instead.

Girl pursed her lips, both surprised and dismayed that Barbarricia had an idea of who she was and where she was from while she herself did not. "You're the one who listens for secrets in the wind. You tell me," she answered smartly.

The fiend seemed almost pleased by this response and crossed her arms. "Casting peculiar magic, is the rumor," she said after a moment.

"Peculiar?" Girl asked innocently.

"Magic different from that of mages."

"I don't understand what you mean," Girl said. "Are you explaining something to me or accusing me of something?"

"Just trying to piece together the circumstances of your being here," the fiend told her.

"I woke up here," Girl explained, annoyed. "I don't know how or why. All I know is that I'm here and I don't remember anything from before I arrived. If you're trying to gather information about shinobi, I'm not the person to ask."

"The Doctor tells me that you cast magic the last time his project failed. You were the one who doused the flames. How can a girl who remembers nothing, still be able to do that?"

Girl shrugged, walking along the length of the foundation. "Why is it such a concern for you? Can't I simply do my job and be done with it?"

"Magic is nothing to trifle with, little girl," Barbarricia warned her. "You know there's a war coming."

"So I've heard," Girl remarked. "What does that have to do with magic?"

"Everything," the fiend answered.

"I don't understand," Girl said with a frown. "I thought this was only a question of land and ownership—of the kingdom of Baron overstepping its bounds."

"There will come a time when those with power will rise and those without will fall. You were fortunate, to be born with your particular skills."

Girl looked at Barbarricia very seriously for a moment. Had the fiend really just slipped a detail she hadn't intended to reveal?

"You're saying that I'm well placed to help my people," Girl continued.

The fiend gazed back at her, almost seeming to look through her. "Very well placed," she murmured.

"The Doctor said that whatever we're building will aid in the war," Girl added.

"It will," the fiend agreed. "So it's important that the Doctor's work continues uninterrupted," she said, nodding at the half-finished vat.

Girl looked back at the fiend shrewdly, realizing that Barbarricia was going to be making sure the Doctor's priorities were her own as well. It was going to be difficult to escape the lab, at this rate. The Doctor's bargain with her was looking more and more hollow every day. She would still have to find her own way, only now there was a warden.

Girl gazed at the work in front of her, at the progress that had been made over the past week. There was so much left to accomplish, and the remaining schematics in the Doctor's keeping were a mystery to her. How long would it take to construct the final product? What was it? And what purpose did it serve—would she even be allowed to know?

It was a thought that bothered her up until the vat's completion.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The following week was filled with many long arguments and complaints about the vat's final touches. The beams were finally laid with some creative use of the drones and foul looks from Barbarricia, but the job was done by the time the prescribed two weeks were up.

The morning after the vat's completion, the Doctor produced a strange substance that reeked horribly and had an oozy black texture. He delivered it in several large buckets and set them down in the middle of the work room to the sound of profound silence.

Girl leaned over one of the buckets with an arched brow. "What exactly—is this?" she asked.

"It's a substance collected from some of the deepest, oldest pits on the earth," the Doctor explained, clapping his hands together as though they were covered in dust.

"And what does it do, exactly?" Girl asked.

"When applied properly, it seals and waterproofs," the Doctor continued, pushing his glasses back up his crooked nose.

Girl grimaced. "This doesn't sound at all pleasant."

"You'll need this," Barbarricia said, handing her a shovel.

"What?" Girl asked, confused. "What about you?"

Barbarricia turned away, a satisfied strut in her walk. "This is why _you're _the assistant," she laughed.

Girl watched the Fiend leave the work room to settle "affairs" as she often called them. The Fiend spent half of her time away from the Doctor and his work tending to other matters, and the other half of her time making Girl's waking moments miserable. She wondered if there might come a time when she would discover what the Fiend was _really _doing in her spare moments. But like all things in this wretched tower, that would take time.

Instead, Girl took up her shovel and took on the monumentally unpleasant task of tarring the inside of the vat. It was three days' worth of work and she was alone for all of it. On the third day, Barbarricia returned, arms crossed, and the characteristic scowl on her face.

"Well, well," she observed.

Girl was drenched in sweat and her clothes were utterly ruined as she stared at the Fiend who was not covered in a speck of oil or tar or dirt.

"I thought this was the Doctor's project," she complained. "Why isn't he out here doing all of this work? Why aren't _you _for that matter?"

"He isn't as young as he used to be," Barbarricia said snidely, "And my hands couldn't possibly be sullied by so crude an earthen substance. I am a creature of the air, not the pits of the earth."

"If I wasn't here, who would be doing this very task?" Girl asked, angrily.

Barbarricia raised a brow. "I'm sure the Doctor would have found another solution. However, with your work completed, now you can make good on the other part of your duties."

"Duties?" Girl asked, fearing where this was headed.

"This vat was made to hold water."

"I already told you," Girl said defensively. "I can't just summon it at will. I don't even know how."

"Use your magic," Barbarricia persisted.

Girl looked at the fiend and then at the vat in front of her. To fill such a large space…

"I can't control it," Girl repeated.

"Can't—can't—can't. All that comes out of your mouth are excuses. How do you expect to be of any help to your people with an attitude like that?"

Girl had a sudden urge to scream. She wanted to help her people, yes, but not in the way Barbarricia and the Doctor were expecting.

"You don't understand—I _can't_," Girl protested. "I don't know how to summon it; control it."

The fiend sneered at her, and Girl could tell she was biting back her words—wanting to say that she had experienced Girl's magic firsthand—but that would be an admission that they had fought in the tower's upper reaches. That they knew who each other really was.

"Try," Barbarricia said through gritted teeth. "Or do you want this project to die in its infancy?"

Girl felt her panic begin to build. To do this was a monumental task. The vat was long and deep, and that much water from a non-source? She had done it once, yes, to douse the flames, but at least then she'd had a proper reason to cast her magic. Now, with no real prompting, she didn't' know how she would do it.

"Cast."

Girl stood at the edge of the vat, and swallowed. Was this her true test?

She felt extremely self-conscious, cornered, and unable to act.

Barbarricia walked close to her, and Girl felt her presence as a draft on her back. "What's the trouble—memory loss?" she mocked.

Girl pursed her lips. "I've already told you. I don't know how to cast the kind of magic you're asking."

"I don't believe that," the fiend scowled and Girl sensed she was on the hunt again.

"May I remind you, that every day we lose is another day that Baron has to mobilize their forces? If you can't summon water to this vat, how are we to proceed?"

"There are pipes! Girl exclaimed. "Pipes in the ceiling—why can't you get your water from one of those?"

"This tower's water supply is limited. Time is limited. You've done this before—you can do it again."

"Why can't you find your own water, rile up a storm cloud and make it rain? You're a wind spirit, aren't you?" Girl quipped.

Barbarricia gripped her shoulder and turned her around. Girl nearly stumbled from the vat's wall at the force of Barbarricia's tug.

"You will do this, or your usefulness to the doctor will be at an end," the fiend threatened, looking her straight in the eyes. "Fancy being inside a solitary room doing nothing until the war ends?"

Girl studied the fiend, at her cat-like pupils narrowed to dagger points. Be useful or be locked away? Were these her only options? Had these always been her only options?

"If I knew how, I would have no trouble casting magic to fill this vat," Girl said slowly, carefully. "I can't seem to make any sense of how or why my magic does what it does. I'm not a pet who can do tricks on command like one of the Doctor's other experiments. I need time."

"There is no time," Barbarricia contradicted her, pointing across the work room. "Do you see those other beams lying over there? They must be soaked and molded into shape over time—time that cannot be delayed. The frame for this new machine must be completed before year's end.

"When I helped the Doctor douse the flames, I was able to do so because we were both in danger—now I have only your nagging."

"Listen to me carefully, Girl," Barbarricia said in a low voice. "Do you see how many people are here to finish this work? There is only the three of us. And of those three, only you have the magic to accomplish this task. We could drain the water from the tower, but the reservoir would run dry and then what? Die of thirst? I've heard it's a terrible way to die."

"We'll have to die of thirst, then, because I don't have enough magic to do as you ask."

"Are you stalling on purpose?" Barbarricia asked, narrowing her eyes and pacing. "Do you not care about the survival of your people?"

"It's hard to care about people you can't remember," Girl replied vehemently.

"Cast," the fiend snarled at her once more.

"_No," _Girl said, hopping down from the vat's ledge and glaring at Barbarricia as she skirted around her to the work room's doors.

She knew the fiend would make her regret this later, but she was tired and angry and in need of rebellion.

"There's no escaping this, Girl. You will cast your magic or you will find your existence in this tower very unpleasant indeed," Barbarricia called after her, and deep down, Girl knew the fiend's words were a promise—a promise she would keep.

She straightened her shoulders and kept walking, the confidence in her steps a farce compared to the cold fear in her gut. She truly was trapped—in every possible way.

0-0-0-0-0-0

A/N:

*I'll get back to that one ;)

Headdesk! After such a long wait, I would have liked to give you all something a little more substantial, but…well…this _used _to be longer and it didn't make much sense keep it as one long chapter so I split it again.

I have a better grasp of what's going on in the next chapter, but this one…this one took a while.

Also…in a fit of brilliance, a friend sent me a link to a diagram about wooden ship building and as it turns out…I was totally on the right track! Who said an art degree was worthless! lol

Sorry again for the long wait—and thank you for reading!

And for any of you who read any of my other fics as well, a second surprise chapter was posted to Emboldened. Check it out! ;)

~Myth


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